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“HE WHAT?” MICHAEL NEARLY shouted, forgetting all about his injuries. Suddenly feeling the pain, he put a hand over his deeply bruised jaw and tenderly worked his mouth up and down trying to relieve the soreness. The bruise on his jaw was nothing compared to the way the swollen tissue made his left eye look like little more than a slit.
Alex was not the least bit intimidated by his father’s outburst. He had a bruised cheek bone and a fingernail scratch on his neck, but other than that he hadn’t suffered too much during the fight. “That’s what Tiffany said.”
“That crazy old man won’t say a word to me, but he lets a stranger live in his house?” Michael strummed the fingers of his right hand on the desk. “You know, he’s just crazy enough to think she is his long-lost daughter.”
“You think he talks to her?”
“He doesn’t talk to anyone, not even the housekeeper. If he wants something, he writes it down. He has pads and pens all over the house just for that reason, or at least he did last time I was there.”
“I never did understand why he stopped talking or why he’s never once set foot in our house...not that I remember anyway.”
“He hates the sight of me.”
Alex wrinkled his brow. “Yet, he lets you run the company.”
“He didn’t exactly let me take over. After the baby was kidnapped, Dad stopped caring about it and since I was vice-president, I just stepped into his shoes. I expected him to throw a fit over it someday, but he never has.”
“You think he would have reacted the same way if someone kidnapped me?”
Michael drew in a deep breath. “I don’t know. He married Shelley before I even knew he had a thing for her. Sometimes I wonder if he’d been seeing Shelley before Mother died, but I never could picture that. He loved Mom, I know he did, and back then he was totally obsessed with keeping the family’s reputation clean. Not old Earl Woodbury - he wouldn’t dream of having an affair before his wife died for fear the whole town might find out.”
“So you didn’t know about Shelley?”
Michael stood up and walked to the window. Traffic was light on the Interstate, what he could see of it now that the Terrell Office Supply Company obscured most of it. “Not until they ran off to Vegas and got married.”
“You never told me they got married in Vegas. Everything I know I learned from Mom.”
Michael frowned. “And there’s a lot your mother doesn’t know either.”
“Such as?”
Michael slowly ran his fingers through his hair and then turned to face his son. “Those were crazy messed up days. Dad hated me for getting your mother pregnant and I hated him for not getting off my back about it. Whatever Earl wanted, Earl got, but even marrying Pamela wasn’t enough. Then I find out he wasn’t as perfect as he pretended to be. Babies take nine months, but not his. The baby was full term, at least that’s what Mariam said. Before Mariam was our housekeeper, she was a volunteer in the children’s ward at the hospital, so when Shelley brought the baby home, Mariam knew right away Tiffany wasn’t a preemie.”
“Did you ask Earl about that?”
“Ask him? Are you kidding? His private life was none of my business, and since he stopped talking shortly after the kidnapping, it’s still none of my business.”
“I always felt sorry for Earl. His daughter was kidnapped and both his wives died. Maybe I should have spent more time with him.”
“Maybe you should now,” Michael said as he returned to the chair behind his desk.
“Meaning?”
“Meaning we need to know what’s going on in that house. Earl married once without telling anyone in advance and he could do it again.”
“Marry who – you mean that girl?”
“Why not? And if he marries Tiffany Clark, she gets half of everything when he dies.”
“Seriously, Dad, he...come to think of it, Earl did watch her constantly at the picnic.”
“Yes he did. He even laughed when she ate the beans.”
“So what do I do, just walk up to the door and say, hi Grandpa, I’m here?”
“You could date Tiffany.”
Annoyed, Alex tightly gripped both of the armrests on his chair. “Date her? You have got to be kidding. She’s not even close to my type.”
“Your type acts more childish than Gloria.”
“True.” Alex snickered, “Tiffany really got to Gloria yesterday. My precious half-sister cried for nearly an hour after the picnic and went home...alone.”
“That’s a switch.”
“Guess she hadn’t heard about genital warts.”
Michael wasn’t laughing. “So will you?”
“Will I what?”
“Date Tiffany?”
“If you must know, I tried and she turned me down,” Alex admitted.
“Really? I’m amazed.”
“I’m not.” Alex stood up and headed for the door.
“You don’t see her as some sort of challenge?”
“Dad, I don’t need a challenge. Besides, Ben gave me one of those ‘she’s mine’ looks.”
“That never stopped you before.”
“I know, but last time I got in his way he threatened to break my neck.” Alex grinned. “I did enjoy taking her away from him.” He was thoughtful for a moment. “What was her name?”
“So you’ll do it?”
Alex opened the office door and then turned around to face his father. “I’ll do it on one condition?”
“What’s that?”
“I get half of your inheritance.”
Michael chuckled. “You may think Tiffany Clark is innocent, but I know her kind – I married three of them. If you don’t come between she and Earl, innocent little Tiffany Clark will make sure neither of us sees a dime of my inheritance.”
*
THE NEXT MORNING, TIFFANY was worried. Mariam might not be pleased with the way she treated Gloria at the picnic. Since Mariam seemed to favor Michael, Tiffany could even lose her job over it.
However, when she arrived at the bookstore it was clear Mariam had other things on her mind.
“I just don’t know how we’re going to mend all the broken fences this time,” Mariam complained. “I doubt you know this, but Blue Falls nearly suffered extinction before more companies came here, and all our livelihoods depend on the new people.” Mariam paused just long enough to draw in a deep breath. “I wanted to hit Michael myself when he went after Jerry. They ruined a perfectly good picnic and I have no doubt we’ll have to put up a fence between the two sides next year.” When a customer came in, her frown turned to a smile, and she happily greeted the woman. When the woman said she was interested in thrillers, Mariam led the way to the proper bookshelf. She had just returned to the counter when two of her friends came in to gossip.
“As I was just telling Tiffany,” Mariam went on, “Mrs. Terrell, was quite upset, as was everyone else”
Tiffany decided she should stay out of the conversation completely, grabbed a stack of books and went to put them away. Even so, she cringed when the next subject came up.”
“Gloria started it,” Mariam continued. “Why she isn’t pregnant by now is beyond me, and oh, what she wore!”
“Scandalous,” said one of her friends just before she hurried off to make it on time for her hairdresser appointment.
“Mariam,” the woman interrupted, “about that deputy. You said he talked to you last Friday?”
“Yes he did, and he was very considerate.”
The woman lowered her voice. “You didn’t tell him about me, did you?”
“Of course not,” Mariam answered. She glanced toward the back of the store, but Tiffany was nowhere in sight and the woman looking at cookbooks wasn’t paying any attention to them. Even so, she lowered her voice to a whisper as well. “Samantha, you worry too much. No one knows but me, right?”
“Well, I might have mentioned it to Birdie.”
Aghast, Mariam couldn’t help but raise her voice. “Birdie? Why on earth would you tell her anything?”
“I was upset.”
“You got drunk, you mean.”
Samantha hung her head. “Yes, and I had every reason to get drunk that night, didn’t I. That was the night Frank threatened to leave me if I didn’t clean the house and keep it that way. The thing is, I don’t remember if I told Birdie or not. What should I do?”
The two of them stopped talking when the first customer brought her selection to the front, paid for the books, and then left. By then, Tiffany had worked her way halfway up to the middle of a shelf where she could hear better.
Mariam sighed. “Maybe Birdie won’t remember. If she does, she probably won’t tell the deputy anyway. Birdie has always been the secretive type.”
“I hope you’re right.”
“I’m sure I am. Why don’t you pick out one of the cookbooks, go home and make something wonderful for your husband tonight? Oh here, I know just the one.” Mariam marched to a shelf, grabbed a book with a colorful picture of a three-layer chocolate cake on the front, came back and handed it to her friend. “Go on now and try not to get yourself all worked up. Your heart, you know, and bring the book back when you’re done with it.”
After Samantha was gone, Mariam waited until Tiffany came to the front. “She won’t bring the book back, she never does. I bet she has a hundred dollars’ worth of my books in her house she’s never paid for. Someday I might have to go over there and collect, although I don’t know where we’d put them. There, you see, we need more customers and I had hoped to make many a new friend at the picnic. I had cards to give and handed out several, but who knows when they’ll feel like reading a book now?”
Tiffany finally smiled. “When I’m upset, I like to watch a movie where something blows up. The bigger the explosion, the better I feel.”
“I might just try that myself one of these days. Even I get tired of reading books sometimes.”
While Mariam said nothing about the things Tiffany said to Gloria, a couple of her friends were not that generous. As often as she could, Tiffany left Mariam at the counter chatting, while she tried to disappear in the back. More friends came and went, all with something to say about the picnic, and all hoping to learn something they didn’t already know. Yet, right before noon, one woman said Tiffany accomplished the most magnificent dressing down she had ever heard. Mariam agreed.
After that, Tiffany felt much better.
Assured that her job was still safe, Tiffany decided to go get a second suitcase out of her car on her lunch break. When she got to his garage, Ben was in his office waiting on an older man wearing a backward baseball cap the way a lot of men preferred. Tiffany spotted a candy machine, opened her purse to get some money. and went to make her choice. She didn’t pay much attention, waited while Ben sold a battery, and the customer left. It wasn’t until she heard a truck door slam and glanced out the window that she saw the beat-up blue pickup truck. Unfortunately, the man was already hidden behind his tinted windows.
“Crazy Eddie?” she asked.
“The one and only.”
“Why didn’t you introduce me?”
“Because he likes being incognito and he pays me a lot to keep that old bucket of his on the road.”
“He doesn’t look like he can afford much at all.” She put a dollar in the machine, made her choice, and then lifted the lid and recovered a package of peanut butter crackers.
“Don’t let him fool you, he’s loaded.”
“Then why doesn’t he just buy a new truck?”
“He’s saving his money in case he needs it someday. That’s why they call him crazy. He did buy a house for his ex-wife, though.”
“That was nice of him.” Just then, she remembered why she came. “I need the keys so I can get something out of my car.”
He dug the keys out of his pocket, opened the door for her and then followed her out. “The part came in this morning.” He went to her car, handed her the keys and waited while she opened the trunk.
Although she had no idea what Ben was talking about when he described how difficult it would be to fix her engine, she fully understood that it might take a few more days. “Tell the truth, Ben Coulter, are you trying to get me to stick around?”
“Yes I am. If you’ll tell me how much you have in the bank, I’ll raise my price accordingly.”
“Very funny.”
He leaned against the back door of her car and folded his arms. “I meant to thank you for getting Gloria off me yesterday.”
“I might have gone too far. Everyone seems to be talking about it, and...”
“Everyone talks about her anyway – that’s why she does it, that and to make her father mad.”
“Twyla Thomason.” Tiffany muttered as she pulled a small suitcase out of her trunk and then closed the lid.
Ben couldn’t help but grin. “Go on. I can’t wait to hear this one. Who is Twyla Thomason?”
“There’s not a lot to tell. Twyla never had a good reason to be mad at her parents except that she thought they were too strict. They wouldn’t let her stay out all night when she was fifteen or even sixteen. Everyone else got to stay out, or so she claimed.” Tiffany sighed. “She got invited to a party and it turned out only three others showed up – all of them older boys. Even so, she had a good time until one of them got so drunk he threw up all over her.”
“Did that cure her?”
“That and being grounded for two whole months. She couldn’t even go to the junior prom.”
He enjoyed yet another of her stories. “Do you have plans for dinner tonight?”
“I do. Beverly is making a chef’s salad, which happens to be my all-time favorite and then I’m curling up with a book.” She dropped the keys into his open hand.
“Tomorrow night?”
Tiffany considered it. “Okay, but I’m more of a hamburger kind of girl than a fancy restaurant, and I can’t stay out late. I’ve got important things to do.”
“I know just the place. I’ll pick you up at seven.”
Tiffany grinned, and picked up her suitcase. “Deal. I better get back to work.”
Once more, he watched her walk away. “What kind of important things?” he wondered aloud.
*
IN HER ATTEMPT NOT to look too eager to be with Ben, she wondered if she’d made a mistake by not accepting. She liked him a lot more than she was willing to admit even to herself, and she didn’t want to play too hard to get. Yet, it was her father who warned her about being taken for granted. Girls who didn’t say no were just that – taken for granted. Besides, she would see Ben the next night and just now she wanted to see if she could figure out just who Shelley Woodbury was.
The name on the bank statements before she married Earl was Shelley Bayliss. Surely that wasn’t a very common name, and if Shelley worked in an office, there might be some record online of who she worked for. What Tiffany didn’t know was how old Shelley was, and reminded herself to ask Earl when she got home.
Again, she wasn’t sure how much she should tell Earl. That very morning she learned someone named Samantha was hiding something, but she didn’t know Earl well enough yet. The very mention of her name might set him off and make him storm out of the house to find out exactly what Samantha knows. If he did, Mariam would surely know Tiffany told him, and Tiffany would surely be without a job then. No, it was best to wait until she could find out something more about the woman with a secret she only wanted Mariam to know.
She was nearly back to the bookstore when she thought of something. Mariam said she had a lot to feel guilty for. Maybe not telling Samantha’s secret was what she meant. Then again, betraying a friend’s trust was not an easy thing to do, especially if the sheriff might think Mariam was trying to cast suspicion off of herself and onto someone else.
*
IT WAS NEARLY CLOSING time, so Tiffany was up front when the bells began to tinkle and the bookstore door opened
“Remember me?” Alex Woodbury asked.
Mariam looked at the single white rose he was holding. “I suspect that’s not for me,” she said as she grabbed her purse out from under the counter. “Well, lock up for me, will you?” She waited for Tiffany to nod, and then hurried out the door and down the sidewalk.
“Off to tell all her friends,” said Alex. He handed Tiffany the rose and then watched her eyes. They didn’t light up the way he expected them to. “You don’t like it?”
“Let me see, a white rose means you are trying to charm me.” She sighed. “It’s a cliché and it’s been tried before.”
“Without success, I am guessing.”
“Well, I might give you the benefit of the doubt after what I did to your sister.”
“That’s what I came to tell you. The family said to say thank you. Gloria had it coming and only a stranger could have put her in her place the way you did.”
“Your family doesn’t think I was a little too harsh?”
“Well, her boyfriends stopped calling. Warts, you know, but don’t worry, she’ll get tested and then all will be back to normal. So you see, the rose simply means thank you.”
“In that case, I accept it.”
“Good, then maybe you’ll have dinner with me tonight. There’s a very nice restau...”
“Sorry, all booked up.”
“With Ben?”
Tiffany frowned. “And that’s another thing. Steven Brown would never have asked me that question.”
“Steven Brown?”
Tiffany sighed. “I’m afraid I’ll have to save that story for another time. It is time to close up and I’m expected home for dinner.”
“Care for a ride?”
“No thanks, I like walking.” Tiffany watched the expression on his face turn from hopeful to frustrated. “Well, if you will excuse me.” She grabbed her purse, walked to the door and opened it for him.
“What, you’re not going to invite me to dinner at Grandfather’s house?”
“It is hardly my place to. I am simply a renter, nothing more.”
“Tell Grandfather hello for me.”
“I will.” As soon as he was out the door, Tiffany closed and locked it. She had one more book to put away, then she too left.
Standing not far away, Alex watched her rush away, and when he walked past the bookstore window, Tiffany had left the rose behind. “This is going to be harder than I thought.”
In a hurry to get home and take a look at more of the bank statements, she walked fast. She was a little afraid Alex would follow, but Crazy Eddie was probably somewhere keeping an eye on her. She was getting used to being ‘protected’ by him and kind of liked it.
*
AFTER ANOTHER YUMMY dinner with Earl and Beverly, Tiffany rushed upstairs to get to work. She already had the statements neatly arranged according to dates and it was time to start putting all the information on a spreadsheet. She finished entering the first few dates, names and amounts, laid them face down on the desk, and then stared on the next one. The next check Shelley wrote was not to Charles Hadley, but to The Charles Hadley Foundation. “A Foundation for what?” she whispered.
Tiffany spent the next hour looking for a Charles Hadley foundation on the internet with no more success than finding Charles Hadley himself.
“Dead end,” she said, ignoring the cliché.
In the next statement, Shelley made two payments to the Charles Hadley Foundation, one for $5,000.00 and another for $2,000.00. “Lucky foundation.” She entered each on the spreadsheet and paused to consider what she’d found.
The Charles Hadley Foundation could have been a charity, a cult, or even a dog pound for all she knew. It was likely shut down after Shelley stopped supporting it anyway. Maybe it wasn’t a real foundation at all, just a cover for something nefarious. Tiffany scolded herself. “You are so like your dad.” If push came to shove, she could always ask her dad to see what he could find – except he’d probably take the next plane to Blue Falls to make sure she wasn’t getting herself in trouble – and then be totally in the way.
At just after eight o’clock, Beverly brought her a small plate of cheese wedges and apple slices to snack on, but it was nearly midnight by the time Tiffany climbed into bed. Her quest to help Earl was turning out to be a lot harder than she expected.
*
IT WAS A QUIET NIGHT with very little traffic on the Interstate, but Rod parked on the frontage road, and clocked the cars and trucks as they went past. On that stretch of the road, he was easy to spot, so most drivers slowed down as they approached, and then sped up again once they were out of sight. As far as he knew, he didn’t have a traffic ticket quota to fill and besides, the deputy had other things on his mind anyway.
Shelley Woodbury seemed to have taken all the answers with her to the grave. Most people who overdose on drugs die in bed or at least in the house, but Shelley was found outside in the garden. The position of her body looked more like she had fallen rather than simply laid down and gone to sleep. If she fell, why didn’t the glass break? The only other possible answer was that someone carried her into the garden, and laid her down, setting the glass upright beside her.
Looking at the picture of Shelley’s body was the first thing he did when he got home. In his notes, the sheriff saw nothing suspicious about the way Shelley died and did not take fingerprints or collect any other evidence – probably because Earl was so upset. Still, if she took an overdose of some very nasty barbiturates, why wasn’t the empty bottle found next to her body as well?
With no answers, he turned his attention to what the sheriff said about Earl’s sons. The boys didn’t like Beverly, talked Earl into firing her after his first wife died, and then he hired Mariam Eggleston to take Beverly’s place. Soon after the kidnapping, Earl brought Beverly back. He told the sheriff Mariam couldn’t have been involved, but then why send her away? Of course, maybe he liked Beverly better.
Rod was frustrated. The answers he sought were not in the files. All he could do was keep talking to people, hoping someone would want to talk now that so many years had gone by.
*
IF THE TOWN WORRIED that the fist fight between Michael and Jerry at the picnic ended the feud, they were about to be pleasantly surprised.
The last thing Michael Woodbury expected the next morning was to see both Pamela and Andrea waiting for him when he got to the office. Neither looked very happy, but that was nothing new, so he walked around his desk, sat down and said, “My darling ex-wives, what can I possibly do for you this early in the morning?”
Pamela stood with her hands on her hips, repeatedly tapping the toe of one shoe on the floor. “You know very well what you can do for us!”
“Really? What?”
Not much calmer than Pamela, Andrea slammed her alimony check on the desk nearly hitting him in the face. At the same time Pamela slammed hers down too.
Completely taken aback, Michael picked up Andrea’s check. “It’s blank.”
“As if you didn’t know?” Andrea spat.
He pulled his top drawer out, grabbed the ink pen out of the set Jerry Terrell sent him, scribbled on a piece of paper and then waited. A full minute later, the ink began to disappear. “That...” Michael started to swear before he caught himself.
Both of his ex-wives laughed, but he didn’t think it was funny at all. He gritted his teeth, grabbed another pen and began to fill out the checks. He handed Andrea’s back to her, and then scribbled the amount and his signature on Pamela’s. He was barely finished when Pamela grabbed it out of his hand.
“Looks like Jerry got the last laugh after all,” said Pamela as she headed for the door.
“Poor Michael,” Andrea moaned. She walked out the door Pamela held open and soon both were gone.
Michael picked up Jerry’s peace offering and threw the pen as hard as he could across the room, hitting the portrait of Earl right in the mouth. The pen exploded, Michael gasped, and instantly grabbed a box of tissues. He ran to the painting and tried to blot the ink, but all he managed to do was smear it. All he could do was stand there and watch the ink start to drip down the painting.
“Sorry, Dad,” he said. In a panic, he went back to his desk, pulled the written ledger out of the drawer, and opened it to the last page. It too was blank, as were the previous two pages. Michael closed his eyes and laid his head on his desk. “He’s going to pay for this if it’s the last thing I ever do.”
Ten minutes later, he raised his head and took a second look at the damage he’d done to Earl’s portrait. To his amazement and his delight, the ink had all but completely disappeared.
*
IN FRONT OF THE BOOKSTORE, Ben pulled up in his truck right at closing time. Like the perfect gentleman, he opened the door for Tiffany and then got in the driver’s seat.
“Where to?” she asked.
“Mom makes a mean hamburger. You mind eating at her house?”
Tiffany was more delighted than Ben could have imagined. His mother and Mariam were friends and if she played her cards right, she might be able to get Nora Coulter to tell her what Mariam said after the kidnapping. Ben was too young to remember, but maybe he heard something too. Indeed, she hoped it was about to be a fascinating evening – better than any old laptop could provide.
“There is nothing like a homemade hamburger,” said she.
“I bet you’ve never eaten one like this.”
“Really? Tell me it doesn’t have burn a hole through your stomach kind of beans in it.”
“Nope, her hamburgers are real food. On top of the burger, she puts a slice of onion, a slice of tomato and a slice of potato. She wraps them individually in tinfoil and then sets them on the barbeque to slow cook. Throw them on a bun and it’s melt in your mouth kind of good.”
“A slice of potato? Doesn’t that make it too big to bite?”
“Not for me, but you can always take the potato out.”
“Sounds delicious.”
Mrs. Coulter’s house was the usual three-bedroom, one-level home built in the 1980s, with a living room/dining room combination and a modernized kitchen. However, Tiffany was ushered right through the house and into Ben’s favorite place – the patio.
“You have a swimming pool?” Tiffany asked. “Why didn’t you say so, I would have brought my suit.”
“Next time,” Ben promised. He pulled a chair away from the table, let her sit and then disappeared back into the house. A moment later, he came back with two long-stem glasses filled with shrimp cocktail.
Instead of being impressed, Tiffany glared at him. “Where’s your mother, little boy?”
Ben scoffed. “You afraid to be alone with me?”
“Not really.”
“I didn’t think so – not with a gun in your purse.”
She took a deep breath. “You weren’t supposed to see that. I don’t have a permit to carry it.”
He sat down opposite her, used a slender three-prong fork to stab a shrimp, and then put it in his mouth and practically purred over the taste. “I think carrying a gun is very wise for a girl all alone in the world. You know how to shoot it?”
“Yep, my dad is a cop – a detective to be exact, and you didn’t answer my question. Where is your mother?”
“She’ll be here soon. She said she had to run to the store for something.” The look she gave him let Ben know she didn’t completely believe him, so he got up, and opened the lid to the barbeque. After the steam rose and dissipated, he stood aside and let her see four tinfoil wrapped hamburgers. “I hope you didn’t want more than one.”
Tiffany considered the size of each and finally grinned. “It would take me and a whole army just to eat one.”
“So your dad is a detective, what does your mom do?” he asked, putting the barbeque lid down and returning to his seat.
“She takes care of us. I have two brothers and three sisters who keep her busy day and night. I’m the oldest.”
“And the bravest?”
“Possibly...at least so far. You?”
“I’m a spoiled only child. My dad works for the government and is gone most of the time. We...” Just then, Nora Coulter came out the back door with a shrimp cocktail of her own in hand. Ben stood up until she sat, and then kissed his mother on the cheek.
“You’ll not believe what I just heard,” said Nora before she even sat down. “That new deputy is asking questions about the Woodbury kidnapping case.”
“Really?” Ben asked. “What for?”
“Who knows. He talked to Mariam....well, you were there, weren’t you Tiffany?”
“I was,” she admitted, “although I stayed out of the conversation.”
“You knew about the kidnapping?” Nora asked Tiffany.
“Not really, just a word about it here and there until the Deputy came to talk to Mariam. Did you live here then?”
“Oh my yes.” Nora took a bite of her shrimp and waved her fork in the air, indicating she had more to say, after she chewed and swallowed. “The whole thing was just as mystifying as it was horrifying. One minute the baby was in her crib fast asleep and the next, gone. Ben was little and after that, I slept in his room for weeks. It was a scary time for us all.”
Ben snickered, “I was fifteen before she let me go outside and play.”
His mother playfully glared at him. “Oh you. Anyway, I wasn’t alone. Every mother in town was terrified. That was before all the new people moved in, so there weren’t that many locals to suspect of being the kidnapper. Therefore, it had to be a stranger abduction. I still think it was, only...” She took another bite of shrimp. “I am absolutely starved. We were so busy at work today, I missed lunch.”
“Why couldn’t it have been a stranger abduction?” Tiffany asked.
“It’s just that the baby’s bedroom was on the second floor. Whoever took her had to come in through a door and Earl swore all the doors were locked.”
“So it was an inside job?” Tiffany pressed.
“Inside?” Nora asked. “Oh, you mean, Mariam let someone in that night? If she did, she sure hasn’t told anyone, and she’s never been good a keeping quiet. No, if anyone let someone in, it was Shelley Woodbury. There were rumors, you know.”
“Rumors about what?” Ben asked.
“Shelley was...how should I put this...sociable even after she married Earl.”
“You mean she had affairs?” Tiffany asked.”
“It was just a rumor and I shouldn’t have said anything.”
Tiffany finished her shrimp cocktail and set her glass aside. “Mariam kind of implied a woman might have taken the baby.”
“Could be, but I can’t imagine anyone around here who would do that. Certainly no one showed up with a baby the next day, or even moved away right afterword. I don’t know. It just seems like it would take a man with a lot of courage to pick up the ransom. Most woman don’t have that kind of courage.” Nora lowered her voice. “You might as well know; Mariam hits the bottle from time to time. Some say she only started drinking after the kidnapping, but that isn’t true. It wouldn’t surprise me if she was passed out by time the baby disappeared.”
“And that’s why she didn’t hear anything.” Tiffany wondered aloud. “Makes sense. She wouldn’t want anyone to know she was drunk, especially if she wanted to keep her job.”
Nora nodded. “Right, that’s what I think too. Plus, Mariam changed her story. First she said she didn’t hear Mrs. Woodbury scream and that Earl knocked on her door to see if she had the baby. Of course, Mariam didn’t. That’s when Earl called the police. Later, she said she did hear Mrs. Woodbury scream. At least that’s what she admitted to once she was over the shock of the whole thing.”
As soon as they were finished with their shrimp, Ben got up, took the empty glasses to the kitchen and then came back with a serving plate. He went to the barbeque and used tongs to move the hamburgers from the barbeque to the plate. “I don’t remember hearing all this before.”
“Well, dear, the subject just didn’t come up, I guess.” Nora said.
Tiffany still had at least one very important question. “When Mariam talked to the deputy, she said Mrs. Woodbury was regularly visited by a Mr. Hadley. Any idea who he is or was?”
“Hadley...Hadley,” Nora repeated. “The name doesn’t ring a bell. She was from Des Moines, I believe, so maybe she knew him before she came here.”
“Were you surprised when Earl married her?” Tiffany asked.
“Everyone was. His relationship with her was the best kept secret of all time. Suddenly, he brought home a bride and boy was Michael mad when he found out. He was just a kid really, and newly married himself, but old enough to work in his father’s factory as vice-president.”
“There was nothing Michael could do about the marriage by then,” Ben said.
“Not a thing.,” Nora agreed. “Mariam said Michael pleaded for Earl to get an annulment, but Earl told him to mind his own business.”
Tiffany only half paid attention when Ben set the plate on the table and then offered her a hamburger bun. She took it and then added ketchup and mustard. Deep in thought, she began to unwrap the tinfoil and nearly burned her hand. She was grateful when Ben took her plate, and began to unwrap it for her. “Alex came to see me yesterday,” she said intentionally changing the subject.
“What did he want?” Ben grumbled.
Tiffany said, “To date me. I take it the two of you don’t get along.”
“Not since he beat up a friend of mine,” Ben answered. “Alex is a self-indulgent spoiled brat, and always has been.”
“He reminds me of Clyde Brown although unlike Alex, Clyde would never ask me who I was dating.”
Ben smiled and winked at his mother. “Who is Clyde Brown?”
“Well, that’s not a simple question to answer. Clyde sat right in front of me in English class and he was never as charming as he thought he was, even after I bluntly explained it to him. Annoying, rude and even nosey, but he just never had that something special that attracts a girl like me, if you know what I mean.”
“Not exactly,” said Ben, “but please continue.”
“I mean, Alex is a cast-off, a used commodity, you might say. He has diamond eyes to be sure, but he...”
“His eyes are shaped like diamonds?” Nora asked. “I never noticed that.”
“Not the shape,” Tiffany corrected, “the color in the sunlight. Thing is, once you notice how different they are from the usual blue eyes, a girl can’t help but be fixated on them. She doesn’t look away, and he takes that to mean she’s interested. Or maybe he does know the spell his eyes have on a girl. Either way, the color of a guy’s eyes is hardly a reason to date him, wouldn’t you agree?”
Nora’s grin was as wide as her son’s. “Completely.”
“That makes Alex a used commodity?” Ben asked.
“Of course it does. If he can get dates that easily, then a girl might be fooled, but he knows exactly what he is doing. He gets what he wants, and often I suspect, but boys like that are just as used as the willing girls he takes advantage of. What he needs is...”
“A taste of rejection?” Nora asked.
“Well, yes, I suppose that would put him in his place.”
“It won’t,” Ben disagreed. “It will only make him work harder to get her.”
“And then throw her away?” Tiffany asked.
“Right,” Ben answered.
The aroma of the hamburger when Ben gave her plate back, reminded Tiffany of how hungry she was. She put it between her bun and then tried to decide if she could open her mouth that wide or not. At length, she took the potato out. “Just like Clyde Brown, Alex Woodbury is full of himself. I hope he doesn’t’ come back, but I know he will. I looked at his eyes too long too.”
“How on earth did we get on this subject?” Ben asked. Irritated, he got up, went in the house and returned with a bottle of ketchup, even though there was already one on the table. “Guys like Alex are dangerous.”
“I’m not worried,” said Tiffany.
Nora removed her potato too and laid it on the serving plate. “Neither am I. He’s too afraid of his father to do anything to Earl’s house guest.”
Ben wasn’t convinced. “I hope you’re right.”
“I know I’m right,” Tiffany said. “I take Jeffrey with me wherever I go.”
“Jeffrey?” Nora asked.
“Your gun?” Ben asked.
“Yep, but don’t tell anyone. I don’t have a permit to carry.”
“My lips are sealed,” Ben’s mother promised.
“Of course, he might not ask me again,” Tiffany admitted. “I shut him down pretty harshly yesterday.”
“Oh, he’ll ask,” said Ben. “There is nothing he likes better than to think he is in competition with me.”
“Really?” Tiffany asked. “I can’t even imagine that. The two of you are such polar opposites.” She made him smile finally, which made her like him even more. For a moment, but just a brief moment, she wondered if she’d mentioned Alex just to see how Ben would react. Hopefully she had not. The last thing she ever wanted to be was another Carol Bloom.
Tiffany had yet to try the hamburger. There was lettuce and pickles to add if she wanted, but she was already worried about embarrassing herself. However, one taste of the juiciest, melt-in-your-mouth hamburger she’d ever had, soon captured her full attention.
*
THE ROLLING HILLS OF Iowa allowed Eddie plenty of places to hide his truck, walk up the hill, lay down, and take pictures of the new deputy. As usual, Rod was parked on the freeway frontage road clocking speeders. So far, the deputy seemed competent and alert. With his eye to the view finder, Eddie snapped a few more pictures and was about to go back to his truck, when he saw Michael Woodbury drive up.
“This could get interesting,” Eddie muttered. He tipped his baseball cap back a little and once more put his eye up to the view finder.
If the deputy found someone parked behind him disturbing, he didn’t seem to object. In fact, he simply got out of the car when Michael got out of his, and walked back to talk to him.
“Bet I know what this is about,” Eddie mumbled as he snapped yet another picture.
The conversation between Rod and Michael seemed calm enough at first, but Crazy Eddie had seen Michael Woodbury in action many times before, and there was no mistaking the increasing hostility in his demeanor. Michael even flung his right arm out the way he usually did when he was upset. “Careful,” Eddie whispered, “that one is not afraid to haul you in.”
It was over as quickly as it began. Michael stormed back to his car, got in, made an illegal U-turn and headed back to town. The deputy stood near the back of his car watching until Michael was long gone.
“I gotta get me some sound equipment,” Eddie said as he wiggled back down the hill and went to his truck.
*
TIFFANY COULDN’T SLEEP. After a fun evening with Ben and his mother, she got home too late to work on the bank statements. Yet, something was keeping her awake. It could be a change in the weather, she supposed, but whatever it was, her eyes were wide open and her mind was swirling with all the things she’d heard over the past few days.
It was definitely time to do something about it.
*
HOME AND READY TO LOOK through the case files for the three names Millie’s father wrote on the napkin, Rod went to the kitchen and looked at the cold pot of coffee from the morning before. As usually, most of it was wasted. “I need one of those single serving machines.” Instead, he grabbed a soda out of the refrigerator, set it on the table, and began to search the files. Rod passed over the ones he had already read several times, and started on the tips, letters, and newspaper articles.
When his phone rang, he looked at the clock and was surprised to learn it was after two in the morning. He didn’t recognize the number and couldn’t imagine who might be calling that late.
“Rod Keller.”
“It’s Tiffany Clark. I hope I didn’t wake you.”
“Is something wrong?”
“No, well maybe, but I am not hurt if that’s what you mean. I got your number off the card you left for Mariam. Hope you don’t mind.”
“Not at all.”
“It’s about the kidnapping. I overheard two ladies talking at the picnic. One used to deliver mail and she said Shelley Woodbury’s car was often parked at an office in Bloomfield. Although she only saw Shelley once, she recognized the car as the Mustang convertible Earl bought Shelley right after they married.”
When she hesitated, he said, “Go on.”
“Well, this is just a guess, but I was thinking that’s where she went instead of taking long rides like she told Mariam.”
“That makes sense.”
“There’s more too, a lot more. I’ve been doing a little research for Earl. Remember Charles Hadley, the mysterious man Mariam talked about?”
“I remember,” said Rod as he jotted down what Tiffany was telling him.
She giggled, “Of course you do. Anyway, Shelley donated large amounts of money to the Charles Hadley Foundation. I’ve looked for him and his foundation online, but the foundation either doesn’t exist anymore or never did. You’d be amazed at how many Charles Hadley’s there are in the world.”
“How do you know all this?”
“Oh, Earl gave me Shelley’s old bank statements and asked me to see what I could find out. He doesn’t know how to use a computer and thought I might be able to help, but I’ve hit a brick wall where Hadley is concerned. There are checks to another man too, at least I think it’s a man, but I haven’t looked for him, and then I’m hoping to find out where she worked in Bloomfield. But I need to know how old she was so I can eliminate any other woman named Shelley Bayliss.”
“Earl talks to you?”
“Isn’t it amazing? I haven’t told anyone and I hope you don’t either. I didn’t exactly ask him if it was all right to tell you. It’s late, you know, and he’s sleeping.”
“I won’t say a word. Do you think he’ll talk to me?”
“Maybe. He knows you’re asking questions. Michael was here this morning making sure Earl wasn’t upset, but if you ask me, it’s Michael who’s upset.”
“Anything else?”
“Well maybe, but it’s just a rumor.”
“What?”
“Mariam might have been drinking that night and fell asleep or passed out. If so, that’s why she didn’t hear anything and didn’t have a book out. I think that might be what she’s trying to hide.”
“So you think Shelley’s maiden name was Bayliss?”
“That’s the name on the bank statements before she married Earl. She had nearly fifty-thousand left when she died too. Nothing after, no deposits or withdrawals.”
Rod finished writing in his notes. “You’re up kind of late.”
“That’s for sure, but I don’t go to work tomorrow until noon. Of course, there’s lots of speculation around town. Ben’s mom thinks Mrs. Woodbury might have let someone in that night. Earl worked a lot, you know.”
“Anything else?”
“Not that I can think of.”
“Tiffany, will you let me know what you hear, even if it seems unimportant?”
“I will, but I need a favor in return.”
“Which is?”
“Don’t tell my dad I’m helping you.”
“Who’s your dad?”
“He’s a detective in Rhode Island. If he knew, he’d be here in a flash.”
“You think he’ll call?”
Tiffany gasped. “You mean he hasn’t already? Wow, maybe he’s letting me be independent after all. Well, good night Mr. Deputy.”
“Good night, Tiffany.”
Rod downed the last of his forgotten soda and took a deep breath. Finally, he was making some headway. What Tiffany said certainly shed a new light on Mariam Eggleston. He wondered if Earl knew she was a drunk. That might explain why he let her go and hired Beverly. People who drink think they hide it well, but they never do.
Next, he underlined the Charles Hadley Foundation. Foundations were set up as a core company, and often branched out in a dozen different directions. The branches could hide a number of shady and fraudulent activities, some of which the FBI might have been investigating. Of course, it could be a legitimate foundation too, and act as a charity or host a research study of some kind. Yet, somehow, Rod didn’t think Mrs. Woodbury was the charity or research study sort, but then he still knew very little about her.
His initial thought concerning Charles Hadley was that he was supplying Mrs. Woodbury with the drugs that eventually killed her. Hadley still could have been her drug connection, but according to Tiffany, Shelley was giving Hadley a lot more than the price of a few ‘feel good’ drugs.
Rod hoped that Earl would soon talk to him, or at least let him have a look at the bank statements. He set that thought aside and picked up the folder with the newspaper articles in it. Instead of sitting at the table, he moved to a more comfortable chair in his small living room.
There was an envelope with a cassette tape inside from one of the major TV networks reporting on the case. Unfortunately, Rod didn’t have a cassette player, but he doubted there was anything new on it. He set that aside and went through the news articles one by one. Most were papers out of Des Moines, but some were from as far away as Utah. There were three that marked the first, second and third anniversary of the kidnapping, but nothing after that.
Not one article mentioned a Charles Hadley Foundation or any foundation at all, nor did they mention her maiden name. Who was Shelley Bayliss Woodbury? Where did she come from, why did Earl marry her, and if she didn’t kill herself, who murdered her?
