Mistake in Christmas River

by Meg Muldoon

  It was hard conducting a phone interview – a lot harder than I would have thought. It was much more difficult to gain a person’s trust, to convince them to talk to you. And you also could miss out on subtle body language cues that would help you analyze the situation better.

  But Daniel was doing his best, despite it.

  “I know this must be difficult, Benjamin,” Daniel said.“But I know that deep down, you must care about finding out what happened to her. I know you must want some answers, the way anybody in your shoes would—”

  “You don’t know the first thing about me or what I want. And I’m pretty damn sure you don’t have any of those answers. None of you cops ever do.”

  The voice cracked with equal parts anger and vulnerability.

  “I understand the police have failed your family,” Daniel said. “But this isn’t just about your mom. There are other people looking for closure, too. People who have lost someone.”

  The other side of the line remained silent.

  “People who are suffering, too. Now, I know I might not be the one to solve your mom’s case. I’m not promising you anything. But I will tell you that to me – it’s not just a cold case. I’m doing everything in my power to—”

  “I’ve forgotten what she looks like,” Benjamin said, his voice cracking again.

  There was a long pause then.

  I raised my eyebrows at Daniel.

  “Those pictures they showed all over the news every night?” Ben said. “That’s all I can remember of her. Those photos that people put on shirts. Pictures where she looked so beautiful and happy. Those are the only images I have of her now.”

  Even though we were talking on the phone, the two-plus decades of pain and hurt in the man’s voice carried through.

  It was hard to hear.

  I couldn’t imagine what Laura’s son must have been through.

  I couldn’t imagine—

  “Those images almost make me forget the way she really was,” he said.

  Something sparked in Daniel’s eyes.

  He leaned forward in his chair.

  “What do you mean by that, Benjamin?”

  There was a staggered breath from the other side.

  “I mean she wasn’t like that,” he said. “The media portrayed her as some sort of saint. Just a beautiful, innocent young woman who vanished off the face of the earth. But… but that’s not how she was.”

  “How was she?” Daniel asked.

  There was a long pause.

  “Cruel,” Benjamin finally said in a quiet voice.

  I felt my eyes widen, and I looked over at Daniel again.

  “My dad had two jobs and worked hard to keep us happy, but she treated him like gum on the bottom of her shoe. I was only seven when she went missing, but even then, I knew that she never wanted me. She told me I was an accident and…”

  His voice wobbled.

  I gulped hard, feeling the hairs on the back of my neck stand up as he continued.

  “I never told anybody. Not even my dad. But the months before she disappeared, I’d get home from school sometimes, and she wouldn’t be there. She’d come home right before dad got back from work, reeking of… I didn’t know what it was at the time. But when I got older, I recognized it. It was cologne. She smelled of cologne.”

  “Did you ever tell the police about any of this, Benjamin?” Daniel asked.

  “No,” he said in a weak voice. “I told you – I didn’t even tell my dad. I knew it would only hurt him. And she’s already hurt him enough.”

  “Do you think she was having an affair?”

  There was a long pause from the other side, and for a moment, I thought that Benjamin had hung up.

  “The morning that she left? I could tell by the way she was packing that she was leaving us for good. She told me she was going to see a girlfriend in Eastern Oregon. Left a note for my dad and everything. But I knew there was more to it than that. I knew…”

  His voice cut out.

  I glanced over at Daniel. His face was fixed in an expression of deep concentration.

  “Benjamin, do you—”

  “I’m sorry – I really can’t do this.”

  A second later, the line went dead.

  Chapter 51

  I quietly unlocked the back door of the pie shop kitchen and walked in, flipping on all the lights. I stamped my boots free of snow, and took off my jacket, tossing it on the counter. I went directly for the coffee pot and began making up an extra strong batch of brew.

  Daniel was spending the night outside of Vicky’s room at the hospital. The Sheriff’s deputies were taking shifts in watching over her, just in case whoever ran us off the road decided they wanted to finish the job. I wanted to go and stay with him there, but he’d insisted that I needed a good night’s sleep. He asked Owen to set up watch outside the house to keep an eye on me.

  But of course, like most nights, I couldn’t sleep. Around two or so, I’d finally had enough tossing and turning. I pulled on some jeans, a sweater, grabbed Huckleberry’s leash and went out to the patrol car, telling Owen that I was headed over to the pie shop to work for the next few hours.

  He’d followed me, and even though I’d invited him in for some coffee, he declined, saying that he had the best view of the shop from outside.

  I grabbed my apron off the hook and tied it around my waist. I gave Hucks a few good pets on his soft, furry head as he settled into his dog bed in the corner. Then I washed my hands, pulled out some butter and sugar, and got down to business in the form of a batch of Lemon Zinger pies.

  I grabbed some sugar and a bowlful of lemons, and began zesting them something fierce. My mind raced almost as fiercly, the way it had been doing since I’d woken up at midnight, wide awake, thinking about Laura Baynes’ son and what he’d said.

  After he’d hung up, Daniel had tried to call back several times, but it just kept ringing. It appeared that Ben had said all that he was going to say.

  Which was a lot, when it came down to it.

  The revelation that Laura might have been having an affair and that she could have run off with her lover shook the whole case to its very foundations in some ways. And in many other ways, it seemed to only add to the mystery.

  Because if Laura was running away with her lover, why was she on that bus that day? Was she going somewhere to meet him? Or did it have anything to do with him at all?

  Additionally, pictures of Laura Baynes had been plastered on news stations from Portland, Oregon to Portland, Maine. I had to believe that if she had indeed run off with a new man, somebody would have seen her. She wouldn’t have just vanished the way she had.

  I shook my head.

  The cases had only gotten more complicated. And the truth felt farther away than ever before.

  The pot of coffee came to a bubbling halt. I abandoned the lemons for a moment, grabbing a big mug, and filling it up. I paused by the window, looking out at the snow dusted trees swaying in a light north wind. I took a sip, resting my free hand in my apron pocket. My fingers grazed a well-worn business card that I didn’t remember putting there.

  I took it out of the pocket, bringing it up to the light, recognizing it.

  I let out a sigh.

  It was a business card for my baking supply company – the one that I had recommended to Frank Longworth the night he came in to feed the sourdough.

  I’d told him I’d give them their number since he was unhappy with his own suppliers.

  I rubbed my face, staring at the business card.

  I hadn’t paid him for the time I’d used his kitchen – it had been an informal agreement, and considering that he’d broken it in such a spectacularly rude way, I wasn’t in any hurry to pay him.

  But a deal was a deal.

  And I was a person of my word.

  I opened a nearby drawer, grabbed my checkbook and a pen, and wrote down a number that seemed fair for the time he’d let me use his kitchen.

  “I’ll be
back soon, Hucks,” I said.

  Then I set my coffee down, grabbed my coat, and headed back out into the cold night.

  Chapter 52

  I walked quickly down Main Street, nodding at Owen, who was sitting in the Sheriff’s cruiser parked out front of the pie shop, understandably looking a little tired.

  Before leaving, I’d checked the time. It was a quarter after three. Bread bakers had to get started at the crack of dawn, and I knew that if I wanted to avoid Frank, I’d need to drop the check and business card off right away or risk another run-in with the hot-head.

  As I walked down the snowy street, I thought about Frank – about the last time I’d been in his kitchen. How he’d actually started making small talk.

  At the time, I thought it was the beginning of a friendly acquaintance. I didn’t think we’d ever be great pals or anything like that. But I knew from experience that sometimes the most ornery people could end up being kind and tender underneath their spiky armor. And that all it took was some persistence and kindness to break through.

  I’d been thinking Frank was one of those types.

  But I’d been wrong.

  There was no softness under the armor. He was rock – through and through.

  I walked along the misty street. Then I cut up between the bread bakery and the toy shop next to it, heading around to the kitchen’s back entrance.

  I stepped up to the door, and was about to wedge the check and business card behind the porch screen, when I stopped.

  The lights were on inside, spilling out across the back alley from the small window.

  I’d been too late – Frank was already here.

  I muttered something under my breath. Knowing that if he caught me out here behind the shop, he’d probably start yelling again about how I’d left his kitchen a mess.

  I started backing away, ready to bolt out of there.

  Frank walked in from the front room, tying a white apron around his waist. He went over to the sourdough crocks, and began adding flour and water to them.

  Watching him like that, going about his business, looking non-threatening, I suddenly wondered if maybe there was hope for some reconciliation.

  Maybe he had cooled down by now. Maybe he would realize that it was all some sort of misunderstanding.

  Living in a small town, you couldn’t afford to go around holding grudges against someone. I knew I’d eventually run into Frank Longworth one day in the grocery store or on the street, and then things would be awkward.

  I wondered if I should just suck it up and try to bury the hatchet with him tonight.

  Wouldn’t that be easier than trying to avoid him forever?

  I drew in a deep breath.

  Then, I reached forward, about to knock on the door.

  But I stopped suddenly.

  I watched in silence as he went over to one of the natural fire bread-baking ovens, stoking the raging flames that he’d built.

  Then I watched as he went over to a drawer in the corner of the kitchen and pulled something out.

  Something red.

  I felt the air go out of my lungs.

  Frank Longworth went back over to the oven and tossed the red t-shirt into the fire.

  A t-shirt that I’d seen before.

  The bandit.

  Chapter 53

  Within fifteen minutes, the entirety of the Pohly County Sheriff’s office had surrounded the Harvest Bread Bakery.

  I watched in silence from across the street as Owen and Billy brought Frank Longworth out of his own business in handcuffs.

  He hadn’t put up any kind of fight. And as they shuffled him over to and put him in one of the Sheriff’s cruisers, I couldn’t read anything in his blank expression.

  He looked out from the window, his eyes falling on me for a split second as Daniel spoke to Owen for a few minutes.

  Hazel eyes. Just like Warren had said.

  Shortly after, the police cruiser pulled away down the street, followed by the other Sheriff’s office vehicles, a parade of flashing lights disappearing in the distance around the bend.

  I felt Daniel’s arm around me, then.

  Owen had called him moments after I’d come running over to the deputy, telling him about the red t-shirt in the fire.

  “Here we’ve been chasing the Booze Bandit all over Central Oregon, and you find him right here in downtown Christmas River. Not a minute from your shop. I ought to give you a job with the department.”

  “There wasn’t anything to it,” I said. “Just the right place at the right time.”

  I let out a sigh, gazing at the empty street.

  With all the flashing lights and police cruisers gone, the street was now as dead and silent as before.

  Like nothing happened.

  “Did he say why he did it?” I asked.

  “No. But he did do it, Cin. He confessed right away. We barely even had to ask the question. It was almost as if he was relieved to finally get caught.”

  I supposed it must have been stressful to have the whole county after you like that.

  I rubbed the back of my neck.

  It was a strange feeling to have – especially considering that Frank had robbed my grandfather and hurt me – but I almost felt sorry for him.

  I remembered what we’d been talking about that night when he’d come in to feed the sourdough – he’d been yelling on the phone at his delivery person about a payment that didn’t go through.

  He must have been having money problems.

  Although there were still a few things that weren’t clear to me.

  “What do you think that manifesto was about?” I asked. “The one going on about the evils of the liquor business and how he was going to make things right?”

  “I don’t know, but I’m sure it’ll all come out in questioning, Cin. All the reasons why he did what he did.”

  I nodded, biting my lip and staring hard at the cold fog.

  “What are you thinking?” Daniel asked after a while.

  “Why didn’t I recognize him?” I said. “I came face to face with him that night at the brewpub. And this whole time, he was right under my nose. It’s probably why he chewed me out that day and told me I couldn’t use his kitchen anymore. He was probably afraid if I stayed there long enough, I’d recognize him.”

  I shook my head.

  “But why didn’t I?”

  It might have been a stupid thing to think – the man, after all, hid his face during the robberies.

  But still… the thought that something had been right under my nose for days and I hadn’t been able to figure it out left me feeling foolish and vulnerable.

  And made me wonder what else I wasn’t seeing in my life.

  Daniel rubbed my shoulder.

  “The important thing is that we got him, Cin.”

  He looked down at me.

  “You got him.”

  I forced a small smile.

  I should have been feeling good that I helped solve the Booze Bandit case.

  But for some reason, standing out on the snow-dusted streets that night, I just didn’t.

  Chapter 54

  I walked down the linoleum hallway of the hospital, passing a desk where an exhausted-looking young nurse sat. She took a long, slow sip from a coffee thermos, doing her best to keep her eyes open.

  I knew something about how she felt.

  After Frank Longworth was arrested, Daniel had driven me and Hucks home. I’d gotten back into bed, but had been unable to sleep a wink. All I could do was stare up at the ceiling and wonder if the fog of this February would ever lift.

  It was now late morning, and the sleepless night was starting to catch up with me as I shambled down the hall of the intensive care unit.

  I gripped the bouquet of white daisies that I’d bought downstairs at the gift shop and stopped just short of her door, taking in a deep breath.

  I steeled myself and remembered that I had to smile and keep an upbeat attitude in there. Otherwise,
I knew it was only going to make Vicky feel worse.

  A moment later, I walked through the door with a big phony smile on my face. Trumbow was in a chair across the room, doing a crossword puzzle – every other deputy in the Pohly County Sheriff’s Office was either doing paperwork on the Booze Bandit case or following leads in our hit and run.

  I nodded at the deputy and he nodded back before returning his attention to his mostly-blank crossword puzzle.

  I forced my attention back to her, keeping the smile plastered on my face.

  “I’m so glad you’re awake Vicky. We’ve all been so worried about you.”

  Her eyes sluggishly moved in my direction.

  They must have had her on all sorts of drugs, and I couldn’t tell if she recognized me or not.

  But despite the way she looked, Vicky was making good progress. The doctors had taken her out of the medically induced coma, and they believed there was no brain damage.

  I placed the white daisies on the side table and cleared my throat.

  “Do you remember what happened, Vicky? What happened the other night when we were driving back to Christmas River?”

  Those empty eyes of hers stared out into nothing.

  “The… the accident.”

  Her voice came out like air through a cracked flute.

  But what she’d said was promising.

  I nodded.

  “You were hurt,” I said. “But you’re going to be okay.”

  I reached forward, gently patting her hand.

  “And we’re all so thankful for that, Vicky. We—”

  “I saw her.”

  She said it in a quiet tone devoid of any emotion.

  My heart skipped a beat.

  Because I knew exactly what she meant.

  And more than that, it had been what I’d been hoping for.

  “The woman.In the car behind us. The one who hit us,” she whispered. “I saw her face.”

  Vicky suddenly reached over, squeezing my arm hard.

  “Cinnamon – I think I’ve seen her before. Somewhere in town, maybe. She looked so—”