Died in the Wool

by Melinda Mullet

  “Right, we’ll be along in a minute. Here, take the key.”

  I let myself in at the front door and found Sam in the kitchen washing out paintbrushes and helping himself to a cup of tea.

  “I hear you’re responsible for looking after things around here.”

  Sam’s eyes narrowed and he shrugged without interest.

  “Have you been here often the last couple of days?”

  “Maybe. What’s it to you?”

  Sam’s response was one I was used to as a journalist—defensive and disdainful. I slipped into my investigative mode. “Nothing to me,” I coaxed. “Just trying to get the lay of the land and I’d guess someone like you sees and hears a lot. I’ll bet you know what’s what around here.”

  Sam turned away and continued to watch the paint running down the drain as if he were mesmerized by the trickle of color swirling down the hole.

  “Can’t see Sheila letting you wash those in the kitchen sink.”

  Sam shrugged. “Ain’t here, is she?”

  “When did you last see her?”

  “Not my job to be watchin’ after her.”

  “I heard you were here on Wednesday. She was around then,” I said.

  “There you go, then. Last time I saw her.”

  “Anyone else hanging around that day?”

  Sam grunted and began drying one of his brushes on a paper towel.

  “Didn’t see nowt. Keeping ma head down, wasn’t I? Job to do.”

  Sam did not strike me as a nose-to-the-grindstone type. Not unless forced by the presence of someone in charge. “Was Richard Urquhart around?” I tossed out.

  “Aye. Havin’ a go-round with herself.”

  “Amanda?”

  “Nae, the kitchen bird.”

  “He was arguing with Sheila?”

  “Aye, and she was in a foul temper, too. Givin’ him a right goin’ over at top volume. Don’t see that often, but worth the wait.”

  “What was she on about?”

  “Couldn’t say.”

  Wouldn’t say, more like, if the argument was as loud as Sam claimed. I pulled out my wallet, fished for a twenty-pound note, and placed it on the counter. “Sure you can’t recall?”

  “Maybe a word or two here and there, but it’s still fuzzy.”

  I kept digging and pulled out another ten, placing it on top of the twenty.

  Sam picked the two bills up, folded them neatly, and slipped them into his shirt pocket. “She were on about this place. Wasn’t happy his lordship had already promised to let some old geezers home move in and shift this lot out.”

  “What did Urquhart say?”

  “Wanted to know how she found out. She told him the girls here weren’t as dumb as he’d like to think. Goin’ on about how he hadn’t given notice and it was goin’ ta cost him a bloody fortune. They was shoutin’ and in the end he told her to mind her own damn business or she’d be sorry.”

  “What exactly did she say about notice?”

  “I’m not a bloody recording machine.”

  “Did you hear the name Jenny mentioned?”

  “Not that I heard.”

  If Urquhart made the effort to come by rather than simply calling on the phone, he must’ve been rattled, and if he was asking how she found out about Manorcare, it would seem that he didn’t know about Jenny. “Anyone else here?”

  “Not till later.” Sam got a sly look in his eyes. “That Templeton bloke was around cozying up to the head girl.”

  This was the first real sign of interest I’d seen in Sam. Salacious interest, but interest nonetheless. This was news he was willing to share for free. “Colin was here?”

  “Aye, they think no one knows, but I seen them all over each other.”

  I had a feeling there was something Amanda was hiding, and I should have guessed from the way he spoke to her and looked at her at the board meeting. Could Colin be the friend Amanda was with the night Sheila vanished? If so, that gave both of them an alibi. Colin might have voted with Urquhart on a business matter, but I couldn’t see him harming Amanda’s friend any more than Amanda would.

  “And no one else was around?” I asked, pointedly ignoring the gossip.

  Sam was clearly disappointed that his news hadn’t produced more of a reaction. “No one,” he snapped, gathering up his brushes and slamming the back door behind him.

  * * *

  —

  It was after five when we pulled into the drive at the Larches. Nora, who’d kept up a steady stream of nervous chatter all the way to Balfour, suddenly fell silent. I looked at her in the rearview mirror and she had slumped down in the seat till all that was visible was her pale face and two very wide eyes. I pulled the car round back and decided it would be best to enter through the less imposing kitchen door. Amanda looked a bit overwhelmed herself, but she reached over and took Nora by the hand and drew her in close.

  “There you all are,” Louisa said, sticking her head out the kitchen door. She was wearing a bright blue apron covered in flour over a pair of well-worn jeans and a crimson t-shirt. As usual, her hair was escaping in wisps from a lopsided scrunchie on the top of her head. She herded Nora and Amanda up the steps into the kitchen, and by the time I came in with the bags, they were both seated at the table with steaming mugs of tea in front of them. Louisa, never at a loss for words, was rolling on enthusiastically.

  “—And I’ve made a nice steak pie for supper and an apple rhubarb crumble for afters. Apple rhubarb is my Luke’s favorite. How old are you now, Nora?”

  “Eleven,” she said softly.

  “There you are, my Luke’s ten. He’ll be back in a bit. I sent him to burn off a bit of energy with Liam.”

  “Liam’s my dog,” I snuck in. “I told Nora she can borrow Liam all she likes while she’s here visiting.” Visiting was the best I could come up with. I didn’t want to stress her by letting her think she was being shuffled up here out of the way. Plus, I could see she was frightened and Liam was always a comforting presence.

  “Sounds like a grand idea,” Louisa said. “Would you like me to show you up to your room so you can rest a bit before dinner?”

  I saw Nora reach for Amanda’s hand under the table. “Let’s all go up and see you settled in,” I said. I looked over at Amanda. “You know, it’s later than I expected we’d be with one thing and another. Maybe you’d like to stay over tonight, too?”

  “Of course.” Louisa caught on right away. “We’ve got plenty of room. I can have another bed made up in a jiffy.”

  Amanda looked relieved. “Please don’t fuss on my account. I’m sure I can bunk in with Nora tonight. You wouldn’t mind, would you, pet?”

  The relief in Nora’s eyes was answer enough. She nodded vigorously and continued to hold on to Amanda’s hand.

  Once we had Nora and Amanda installed in the room across the hall from Louisa and Luke’s, Louisa and I retreated to the kitchen for a counsel of war.

  “Poor little lamb. She’s in a state, isn’t she?” Louisa pulled out plates and cutlery for the evening meal. “I was going to put dinner out in the dining room, but maybe it’s best if we just eat down here in the kitchen. Less intimidating.”

  “Good idea, but where’s his lordship?”

  “He’ll be down for dinner, but Brenna won’t be joining us. She has a bad cold.” I could see a glint of satisfaction in Louisa’s eyes.

  “How did you manage that?”

  “Pure dumb luck, but I’ll take it.”

  My phone buzzed in my back pocket and I finally saw Michaelson’s number pop up. I excused myself and stepped outside to answer the call.

  “I spoke to my friend with the Edinburgh Police Service. His name’s Harry Elliot. He’s not happy about all this. Seems your friend Amanda called the station earlier today and told the ser
geant she’d heard from the missing woman and all was well. The missing person’s case had been closed. That’s a lot of lost time to make up for.”

  I knew how strongly Amanda felt about not involving the police, but I didn’t think she’d out and out lie to them to drive them away. “What does Elliot suggest we do from here?”

  “He’s agreed to let me function as an intermediary for the moment. But he wants me to get a statement from you—videotaped.”

  “Okay, fair enough. When?”

  “As soon as we can.”

  “I’m up here at Grant’s trying to get Sheila’s daughter settled in. Should I drive down to you in Stirling?”

  “No, I’ll come up.”

  Thank God Balfour was part of the greater Stirling region and Michaelson was well familiar with us. “Perfect. Text me when you get here and I’ll meet you at the Haven.” I considered confronting Amanda about lying to the police, but then I’d have to explain how I knew. For now I’d have to be content knowing that I’d done the right thing.

  * * *

  —

  Dinner was a low-key affair. Liam had worked his magic and Luke and Nora were sitting side by side in front of the kitchen fire with Liam, giving him a four-handed scratch. Liam was in heaven. He had a sound instinct for people in distress and he lay with his head on Nora’s lap, licking her knees every so often. It was the first time I’d seen Nora smile, and when she did, she was a different child.

  Grant pulled a bottle of wine from the cellar while Amanda and I helped Louisa make a salad, and then we all settled round the oak table. I was happy to see Nora eating in spite of her obvious nervousness. I didn’t even comment when she slipped a couple of pieces of steak under the table to her new best friend. Liam, smart enough to know which side his bread was buttered, had settled down at her feet, looking up with adoring eyes.

  I hated to disrupt a pleasant evening, but I wanted to try to talk to Nora while Amanda was around and she was feeling relaxed. As Louisa brought out the homemade crumble and cream, I struggled to find the right words. But before I could get there, Luke jumped in.

  “Where do you think your mum went?” he asked point-blank.

  I’d dismissed the idea of asking Nora that question directly. I was too frightened of distressing her, but Luke didn’t overthink things. He simply asked what he wanted to know.

  Maybe it was the source, but Nora took it in her stride, pouring cream over the top of the pudding before answering. “At first I thought she’d gone to see my aunt Tess. We’d talked about maybe moving down to Cornwall to live closer to her, but she wouldn’t have gone that far without her purse. Wouldn’t make sense, and besides, she’d have told me where she was going. That’s when I started to get scared. Mum wouldn’t leave me without saying where she was going. She just wouldn’t.” Nora paused and took a deep breath. “That’s why I’m sure she didn’t want to go. Someone took her.”

  Here we were pussyfooting around and Nora was well ahead of the game. In fact, she seemed relieved that we were now talking openly about the matter. “Any idea who might have wanted to take her away?” I asked, following Luke’s lead.

  Nora continued to chew the forkful of apple she was working on and went for a second before answering. “She wasn’t too happy with Old Pointy Face. She was ready to give him a piece of her mind. Maybe he didn’t like it.”

  I felt sure I knew, but I had to ask. “Who’s Old Pointy Face?”

  “That man we rent from.”

  “Mr. Urquhart?”

  Nora nodded. “Mum was angry that he wanted to move us into a bad neighborhood. I think she was scared for me.”

  “What makes you think that?”

  “I heard her talking to the doctor’s office on the phone. She didn’t know I was there.”

  “Can you tell us what she said to the doctor?”

  Nora nodded. “I heard her asking if they could fill out a form saying that I was”—she paused for a moment—“emotionally something. Mum said it would let me stay at the school I’m at now, even if we moved to another part of town.”

  “We’d talked about that,” Amanda chimed in. “If a doctor would confirm that Nora had special emotional support needs, then Sheila could justify not having to pull her out of the school she’s in now, even if we shifted locations.”

  Sheila was a determined woman. She was hedging her bets, even as she tried to take on Urquhart.

  When we’d finished dinner, Louisa sent the kids up to get ready for bed. Amanda went up with Nora to help her get settled. I reached for a tea towel and began to help Louisa dry dishes.

  “Sorry for Luke’s heavy-handed approach.”

  “No, I actually think it was the right way to go. I have no experience with kids but they often seem to deal with things better than we do. No pretense, no artifice, no soft soaping the truth.”

  “Aye, that’s for sure. Luke’s the first one to tell me when me jeans get a bit too tight. No subtlety there.”

  “Out of the mouths of babes.”

  Louisa chuckled. “What will you do now?”

  “Get Amanda back to Edinburgh first thing in the morning,” I said, stacking the clean plates on the pantry shelf. “Will you be okay with Nora?”

  “Just fine. She has her books. We’ll do some schoolwork, keep her to a routine.”

  “Sounds great. Look, I hate to bug out, but I need to get back to the Haven. I’m expecting a guest.” I usually felt perfectly safe here in Balfour, but the thought of what might have happened to Sheila after she confronted Urquhart gave me pause. I was less than keen to go out alone. I looked over at Grant. “Care to come with me?”

  He looked surprised but not displeased. “Tell Brenna,” he began.

  “I’ll tell her you’re out,” Louisa said firmly, taking the tea towel from my hand and shooing us out of the kitchen. “That’s all she needs to ken.”

  Chapter 14

  Grant looked across at me from the passenger’s seat. “Are you going to tell me who we’re meeting?”

  “Michaelson. He’s coming to the Haven to tape a statement from me. We received a ransom note this morning from someone who says they have Sheila and wants twenty thousand pounds to give her back. No police, of course. Amanda’s adamant we don’t involve them, but I think that’s too risky.”

  “Unusually circumspect of you,” Grant said grimly.

  “A life may be at risk here,” I said, “and I’m well out of my depth. We need help and not only will Amanda not ask for it, would you believe she called the cop shop this morning after I left and told them that she’d heard from Sheila and the whole thing was a false alarm?”

  Grant turned and looked at me as I maneuvered over a patch of monster potholes. “Why the hell would she do that?”

  “She’s scared stiff of upsetting the kidnapper. She’d called the police as soon as she realized Sheila was gone, but that was before the ransom note arrived. Now she’s backpedaling, trying to get them to stop investigating.”

  “Surely she doesn’t think that just paying up will guarantee that Sheila will be returned?”

  “I don’t know how clearly she’s thinking right now. The police aren’t going to just accept Sheila’s sudden reappearance. They’ll want to talk to Sheila immediately. They still think she might know something about Jenny Woodyard’s death.”

  I pulled into the yard and saw Michaelson’s navy sedan parked in front of my gate. He greeted Grant and followed the two of us into the kitchen. I dug around in my purse and found the ransom note. I’d slipped it inside a clear plastic freezer bag to try to prevent it from sustaining damage or collecting additional fingerprints. Michaelson looked at the note with a critical eye.

  “Amateurish,” he remarked, “and since it was more than twenty-four hours after Sheila went missing before the ransom note arrived, the first question ha
s to be: Is this really a kidnapping or is it simply an attempt to extort money from you?”

  As usual, Michaelson was way ahead of the curve. As bad as kidnapping was, the idea that Sheila might still be missing, even after we paid the ransom, made me sick to my stomach.

  “Harry’ll have his people run tests to see what they can pull from the paper. He’s already reactivated the missing person’s file as a kidnapping, but his men have been told no visible presence at the shelter or the shop.”

  Michaelson set up his recording gear on the kitchen table, while Grant sat behind him at the kitchen counter and watched in silence. We began by establishing the day and time for the record, along with the basics of my involvement with the shelter and the note’s delivery.

  Michaelson referred to a handwritten list of questions that I presumed came from Harry Elliot. “Ms. Logan, why do you think the ransom note was sent to you and not Amanda Forrester?”

  “Because I have the money to pay a ransom and she doesn’t.”

  “But why send it to you, and not, say, Richard Urquhart or the Templetons? They have money as well and they have a much longer relationship with the shelter.”

  “Urquhart’s easy. He’s a hard-nosed bastard who wouldn’t pay out for his own mother. As for the Templetons, I don’t know. They’re doing well in their business, but they’re also investing a lot, from what I can see. Maybe someone knew that they wouldn’t have the ready cash.”

  “From the way you are describing this, it sounds like you’re envisioning someone who’s very familiar with the shelter and the board members.”

  I was sure that was Michaelson’s own comment. “They’d have to be closely involved with the shelter to even know I was around. I’ve been on the board less than a week.”

  Michaelson nodded, made a note, and then moved on. “Was Sheila close friends with any of the women in the shelter?”

  “She was closest with Amanda, but she was friendly with all the girls. They regarded her as a mother figure even if she wasn’t far off their own ages. They confided in her. She knew all their secrets.”