by Mary Daheim
“Not a cat,” Renie whispered.
Judith nodded. It had been years since Sweetums had made any noises that didn’t sound like a growl, but Judith could still distinguish between a feline and a human. She pointed to the VW bus. Renie nodded.
“Create a distraction,” Judith whispered. “Go back the way we came, then enter the campsite the usual way. Tell them you can’t find me. Meanwhile, I’ll check out the bus. Then you can keep on going and end up back here.”
“Sounds complicated,” Renie muttered. “Oh well. See you on the flip side.”
It surprised Judith to find the bus door unlocked. She was relieved, though, since it saved her some precious time getting inside. Once she was there, she spotted a half-dozen pieces of well-worn luggage, several items of clothing, and a few discarded snack-food bags. But she heard nothing except the faint sound of the river.
Moving cautiously back among the seats, she finally saw a figure huddled under a blue blanket. She was reminded of the blanket that had covered Codger in his tent. And the one that looked suspiciously like it in the Odells’ trunk. Judith couldn’t help it. She shivered.
The figure under the blanket moved. Judith sucked in her breath. “Trixie?” she said softly.
The young woman raised her blotchy face. “Mrs. . . . ?”
“Flynn,” Judith said, leaning on the seat’s backrest. “How are you?”
“Tired.” Trixie licked dry lips. “I want to go away.”
“Can you walk?”
“I don’t know. I don’t feel so good.”
Judith studied Trixie’s eyes. They were red and the pupils were dilated. She guessed that the girl had been drugged.
“My cousin and I will get you out of here,” Judith assured her. “How did you end up in this VW bus?”
“Is that what it is?” Trixie was struggling to sit up. “I don’t remember.”
“Take it easy,” Judith urged, grabbing the girl’s right wrist. “Sit for a few minutes. Mrs. Jones is coming to help.”
Trixie nodded as she managed to get upright. Her hospital gown was visible under a tan trench coat that looked as if it had seen better days. Judging from how loosely it hung, it had probably belonged to a man. Trixie’s eyes widened as she heard the door open again.
“Oh no!” she gasped, her grip tightening on Judith’s hand. “It’s one of them!”
Judith glanced over her shoulder. “No, it’s my cousin Mrs. Jones. Relax. We’ll get you out of here.”
“Oh . . . okay.” But Trixie sounded dubious.
Once the cousins got the girl on her feet, they were forced to almost drag her out of the VW bus. When they reached the ground, Judith looked out toward the campsite again. She couldn’t see Brewster, but Teddy appeared to be arguing with Pa, who turned his back and stalked away.
“My purse!” Trixie cried. “I have to have it. Can you go back into the bus?”
Judith put her free hand to her lips. “Don’t let them hear us. Your purse is in your motel room.”
Trixie was dubious. “Are you sure?”
“We saw it there earlier. Can you walk just a little bit?”
“Maybe. I’ll try.” Slowly, Trixie put one foot ahead and then followed with the other. “Sort of.”
But as they moved away and out of sight, she gained momentum. It occurred to Judith that Renie should get the SUV and bring it around to pick them up.
“I thought you’d never ask,” Renie shot back. “Keep trudging. I’m on my way.”
As her cousin rushed off, Judith again asked Trixie if she recalled how she ended up on the bus.
“No, I don’t,” Trixie replied. “I remember being in the hospital and I went to sleep and I woke up in that”—she glanced over her shoulder—“VW bus. I didn’t know where I was. I didn’t even know if I was still in Banff.”
“Did you try to get out?”
Trixie shook her head. “I kept waking up, but I’d go back to sleep. Then, not too long before you showed up, I saw a man outside staring at the bus. I got scared. I scrunched down in the seat so he couldn’t see me, but he never came inside.”
They had reached the street beyond the campsite. Judith asked what the man looked like.
“I couldn’t see his face,” Trixie replied. “He was fairly tall and not really young. I didn’t get a very good look because I wanted to hide.”
“I understand,” Judith said. “How do you feel now?”
Trixie entwined her fingers. “I’m thirsty. And hungry.”
“We’ll take you back to your room at the motel so you can get dressed. Then we’ll go somewhere for you to have something to eat, okay?”
But Trixie shook her head and twisted her hands. “No! I don’t want to go anywhere. Except . . .” Her voice trailed off and she turned away.
“Except where?” Judith asked gently.
“Home,” Trixie said. “Except I don’t really have one.”
Before Judith could ask what she meant, the SUV pulled up. “You can get in the seat behind Renie. There’s room for you to lie down if you want.”
“Okay,” Trixie said, allowing Judith to help her get a foothold and step into the vehicle. “I feel kind of floppy.”
Judith got into the passenger seat. “You need food. What would you like to eat?”
Trixie was fumbling with the seat belt. “I don’t know. Maybe soup? Beef vegetable?”
“I think they have that at Wild Flour,” Judith said. “We’ll stop there first. I’ll go inside to get it.”
Trixie nodded once. Judith wondered what kind of drugs the abductor had given the poor girl.
Luck was with them when a parking space opened up by Wild Flour, and Renie volunteered to go inside. Judith looked in the rear-view mirror, which showed Trixie’s slumped head, and was relieved that at least she was breathing regularly. The drugs must have been wearing off.
Five minutes passed before Renie shot out of Wild Flour and around to the SUV’s passenger side. Cradling the container of soup against her midsection, she held a hard roll in her teeth.
“You can’t give that roll to Trixie,” Judith said as Renie got back behind the wheel. “She’s in a weakened condition and you might have germs.”
Renie’s answer was to take a big bite out of the roll before she started the SUV. “I got it for me,” she said after swallowing. “I fancied a snack. And stop sounding like my germaphobe mother.”
Judith refused to take the bait. They arrived at the motel ten minutes later, having encountered what passed for rush-hour traffic in a small town. Trixie was asleep.
“We can’t carry her,” Judith said. “We’ll have to wake her up. Maybe Niall can help us.”
“Trixie’s slim. We can manage.” Renie stepped up into the SUV’s second row of seats. “Hey, Trixie,” she said in a normal voice, “we’re home. Wake up.”
Trixie shifted slightly, but her eyes remained closed. Renie gave her a little shake and raised her voice: “Trixie! Let’s move!”
Trixie moved, but only to rest her chin on her hand. “Mmmm . . .” She smiled ever so slightly.
“We can’t drag her all the way from here up to her room,” Renie said. “I’ll go ask Niall to help.”
“Go ahead.” Judith leaned against the SUV and waved off a couple of mosquitoes. Looking at Trixie’s quiet form, she wondered how the poor girl had gotten into such a mess in the first place. It was obvious that there was some connection to the Stokes family, but what was it? Her driver’s license showed that she was from Lincoln, not Big Stove. But Judith didn’t know much about Nebraska. Renie, Bill, and their three children had visited Aunt Ellen and Uncle Win almost thirty years ago. Maybe her cousin would know more about the state’s geography.
Judith’s musings were cut short when Renie reappeared with the motel desk clerk Layak. “Niall’s off duty,” she said. “But his sub’s a gamer.”
“Thanks, Layak,” Judith said. “You know Trixie, right? She’s not well.”
“So I
heard,” he replied, peering into the SUV. “Oh, poor kid! Is she . . . should she . . . ?”
“We got her into the car,” Judith explained. “But getting her up to her room daunted us.”
“I can do it,” Layak said, fingering his chin, “but it’d be better if she woke up.” He suddenly stared at the cousins. “I mean . . . she’s not . . . really sick?”
“I don’t think so,” Judith said, “though she should be seen by a doctor. Is there one on call for the local motels?”
Layak shook his head. “The hospital’s so close that it’s easy to transport sick or injured people to the ER. But my uncle is one of the doctors. He may still be at the clinic. After we get Trixie in her room, I’ll call him.”
“That’s wonderful,” Judith said with a grateful smile. “Go ahead and see if you can rouse her. Mrs. Jones and I can help you get her to the room. You know where it is?”
Layak nodded and leaned down to study Trixie. “Breathing’s good. Color’s not too off. Trixie?” She shifted a bit on the seat but didn’t answer.
Shrugging, Layak lifted the girl into a fireman’s carry and hauled her out of the SUV. He was slight, but judging from his lack of effort, he was also fit.
Renie was already holding the door open. Once in the elevator, Trixie began to mutter. By the time they reached the second floor, her eyes were open and she screamed.
“Hey,” Layak said softly. “It’s me, Trixie.”
“Oh!” Her body seemed to relax. “I thought it was . . . Never mind.”
“Can you stand by yourself?” he asked, setting Trixie on her feet, but still with one arm around her waist. “I have to open the door.”
“We’ll hold her up,” Renie volunteered.
It took only a couple of minutes to get Trixie settled into bed. Layak apologized for leaving but promised to call his uncle as soon as he got to the front desk.
Renie pulled up a chair, sat down, and opened the carton of soup. “You need nourishment,” she informed Trixie. “You’re going to down this soup or I’ll do it for you.”
Trixie’s eyes widened in horror. “You’d force me?”
“Of course not,” Renie replied. “I’d eat it instead. It smells really good.”
“That’s funny.” The hint of a smile played at Trixie’s lips. “You’re nice. I feel better now. Maybe I can handle the spoon by myself.”
“Go ahead,” Renie said, handing over both soup and spoon. “Mrs. Flynn is always nice. But I’m not.”
“I doubt that.” Trixie carefully spooned up some soup. “Mmm-mm! This tastes wonderful!”
Renie got out of the chair and went over where Judith was standing by the closet.
“Good girl,” Judith said to Trixie. “You need to regain your strength.”
Trixie nodded and kept slurping. The phone rang on the small bureau that also held the TV. Judith answered.
“Mrs. Flynn? Layak here. My uncle will come by in half an hour. His last name is Patel, same as mine.”
“We’ll be with Trixie.” Judith ignored Renie’s glare.
“I’m going to my suite,” Renie announced, as if she were the town crier. “I need to apply my La Mer.” Head held high, she marched out of the room.
Trixie swallowed more soup before speaking. “What’s a law mare? Has she got a horse in her room?”
“No. It’s face cream.” Gingerly, Judith sat down on the bed. “I’m glad you’re feeling better. You must’ve been hungry. Maybe later on you can go out to dinner with us.”
But Trixie shook her head. “I’d rather stay here and rest. I seem to have slept a lot lately, but I’m still tired.”
“I understand. What did you mean when Layak was helping us and you thought he was someone else?”
Trixie frowned. “I didn’t realize it was him. He’s nice. Some people aren’t.”
Judith nodded faintly. “Who did you think it was?”
“Ohhh . . . I’m not sure. I mean,” Trixie went on, with an apologetic expression, “it could’ve been anyone, even a motel guest. My brain’s still not working very well. It’s better now. I think.”
“You’re more like yourself,” Judith said. “What’s the last thing you recall before you woke up in the VW bus?”
Trixie finished the soup and set the carton on the nightstand. “The nurses at the hospital making rounds. I’m not sure what time that was, though.”
“Do you remember breakfast being delivered?”
“Yes.” Trixie paused. “I wasn’t really hungry and I only drank some orange juice. It tasted kind of weird, so I didn’t finish it. Then I guess I went to sleep.” She frowned. “I don’t remember anything after that except I dreamed that I was moving, like in a car. You and Mrs. Jones looking at me was the next thing I saw.”
That made sense to Judith, though in a disturbing kind of way. “Have you any idea of who took you from the hospital?”
“No.” Trixie fell back onto the pillows. “It’s too crazy.”
“Did you know where you were when you woke up?”
“I was on that VW bus.”
“I mean,” Judith pressed on, “where the bus was parked?”
Trixie looked up at the ceiling. “No. Not until we drove away. I realized we weren’t far from the motel.”
Is she lying? Judith asked herself. Someone had mentioned seeing Trixie at the Stokes encampment. But she couldn’t recall who it was.
“Hey,” Trixie said, “can you get my purse? I want to see if I look so awful that I might scare the doctor.”
“Sure,” Judith said, getting up. She opened the closet and blinked twice. The little shelf where she’d replaced the purse was empty. Trying to keep composed, she scoured the meager contents, the walls, the floor, even the ceiling.
“Why are you looking in there?” Trixie asked. “I left my purse in the top left-hand drawer of the bureau.”
“You did?” Judith’s voice seemed to echo. Feeling uneasy, she went over to the bureau and opened both top drawers. One contained an extra blanket; the other held Trixie’s underwear. The big drawer below was empty.
Judith turned to face a curious Trixie. “Not there.”
Trixie stared as if she thought Judith wasn’t all there either.
Chapter 21
“My money!” Trixie cried. “Somebody stole my money!”
Judith came over to the bed and put an arm around the girl’s shoulders. “Don’t make yourself sick. Please.”
But Trixie was sobbing almost convulsively as she ground her fists into her eyes. “It’s all I had! Gone!”
“Trixie!” Judith gave her a little shake. “Listen to me! Please!”
After a few seconds had passed, Trixie began to catch her breath and finally wiped her eyes. She pulled away and stared at Judith. “What?” The question was more like a challenge.
“When we brought your purse to you at the hospital and counted your money, it was all there, right?”
Trixie nodded emphatically.
“I put your purse in the drawer next to the bed,” Judith continued. “Did you remove it from there?”
Trixie had to think about it. “No. I was asleep the whole time until . . . somebody took me away.”
“Okay,” Judith said with a smile of encouragement. “Somebody else did. It was in your room and we found it in the closet. The money was in it. Who do you know in Banff besides the other people who work at the motel?”
“Nobody,” Trixie replied promptly. “I haven’t been here long enough to meet other people.”
“You’ve met some of the guests,” Judith pointed out, not satisfied with the girl’s response.
Trixie frowned. “I guess. But just to say hello to or answer questions.”
“You know the Odells?”
“Hmmm . . . Are they an older couple from Milwaukee?”
“No,” Judith said. “They’re from Iowa and the parents of the twins, Win and Winnie.”
“I remember seeing the twins.” She fingered her chin.
“They were stoked about being able to drink cocktails in Banff. But I didn’t really talk to them.”
“The Odells are related to the Stokes family. Did you know that?”
Trixie shook her head. “Why would I?”
A knock at the door sounded before Judith could reply. “That’s probably Dr. Patel.” She got up to let him in.
“Ah, you must be Mrs. Flynn,” he said with the hint of an accent suggesting Bombay or Calcutta origins. “And the young lady who is feeling unwell must be Miss O’Hara. Let us see if we can find out why she’s a bit . . . peaky.”
Layak’s uncle was approaching middle age, with raven-black hair, warm dark eyes, amazing white teeth, and skin that was just a shade darker than his nephew’s.
“It was very kind of Layak to ask you to come here,” Judith said.
“He’s a good lad.” The doctor opened his leather case. “My brother and his wife have done well by themselves as parents. Perhaps you’d be kind enough to step outside while I examine Miss O’Hara?”
“Of course.” Judith went into the hall, where she saw Jenny coming out of the Joneses’ suite.
“Mrs. Flynn?” Jenny called softly.
Judith moved halfway to meet her. “Is something wrong?”
“No,” Jenny replied, “but Mrs. Jones seems as if she might be . . . touchy about certain things.”
“She can be,” Judith admitted. “What do you mean?”
“I’d already finished with your suite and was almost done with the other one when she came in,” Jenny explained. “At first she was fine, but after a couple of minutes she got her cosmetics bag out of a drawer in the bathroom and swore a lot. I asked what was wrong and she told me to butt out. So I left. I don’t get it.”
Judith didn’t either, but wouldn’t say so to Jenny. “My cousin can sometimes fly off the handle over some little thing—and get over it just as quickly. Don’t be upset. She’s really a goodhearted person.”
Jenny looked relieved. “Oh, okay. I was afraid she might report me to Mr. Barnes because I hadn’t quite finished in her suite. He can be a bit . . . severe.”
“Not her style to tattle,” Judith said, patting Jenny’s arm. “We’ll be leaving in a few minutes, so you can finish up then.”