Chapter Nine

Kate stepped outside to look for Claire and Ellen, but to no avail. They must have gone as soon as she’d left the room. They had certainly left a lot of unanswered questions in their wake. The cool spring air brought goose bumps out on Kate’s arms, and she went back inside. Exasperated, she began clearing the table and carrying dishes to the sink.

Ellen’s actions puzzled her. In thinking back over their conversations, the woman had been abrupt and even rude at times. She’d apologized over and over and seemed anxious and defensive—except when she relayed her mother’s background. Ellen had been animated then and even pleasant.

Kate filled the sink with hot water and squirted in some lemon-scented dish soap. After washing off the table, she settled her hands in the water.

“Forget it,” Kate told the image in the kitchen window. “There are some things you can’t fix, and maybe this is one of them.” But as much as Kate tried to erase the women from her mind, she couldn’t.

After finishing the dishes and wiping down the countertops, she brewed some jasmine green tea, grabbed a pad and pen and sat down in her favorite rocking chair in the living room. Maybe if she wrote her jumbled thoughts down, she could make more sense of it.

Kate attempted to put herself in Ellen’s shoes but found it difficult. From what she had gleaned during their time together, Claire’s mental capacity had changed recently. Ellen had mentioned medication as a possible cause. She’d also said she would need to take her mother to the doctor. Ellen seemed like a reasonable woman, if you didn’t count the ire she showed toward her mother as she was trying to leave.

How would I feel if I came home from work and found that my mother, who’d been increasingly forgetful, was missing?

Kate wrote worried; panicky; frustrated; frightened.

She imagined Ellen tearing around her house and then going outside, frantically calling for her mother and searching every possible place she could be. Finally she had called the police and discovered that her mother was safe.

Relief.

Kate hadn’t seen relief in Ellen’s face when she’d come to collect her mother. Apologetic, yes, too much so. Guilt? Kate wrote down the word and tapped the end of the pen against the pad. Impatience. Resentment—toward Claire and toward me? Why would she act like that? Did Ellen not want Claire to be found?

Kate leaned back and took a sip of tea. Could Ellen be trying to lose her mother? The idea seemed outrageous, but Kate wrote down that possibility.

Ellen had been on edge most of the time, as if she had something to hide. Maybe she did, but what? Kate continued the what-if-this-were-my-mother idea to the place where Claire had accepted Kate’s dinner invitation.

Ellen had been congenial enough through dinner, but the wall came up when Kate suggested bringing Claire’s clothing to their house. Maybe she didn’t want anyone to know where they lived. But why? Were they running from something? Or someone?

The worst part, however, was Ellen’s reaction to Claire’s innocent request that they stay at Kate’s. Apparently, Claire felt safe there and hadn’t wanted to go home. What had Claire started to say before Ellen cut her off? Something about being tired...Tired of what?

Ellen’s reaction had Kate wondering about abuse. Kate couldn’t just let it go. No doubt about it; she needed to find out more. Unfortunately, she hadn’t gotten a last name. Had Ellen omitted it on purpose? She’d hoped that by writing out her thoughts about the women, she’d satisfy her curiosity, but no such luck.

She’d call Skip in the morning. He would have gotten Ellen’s name when he filed his report. Kate didn’t know where her digging would lead. She just needed to make certain that Claire was safe and in good hands.

Having a plan settled her mind to some extent, and with much of the evening still before her, she headed into the studio to work on her stained-glass project and enjoy her favorite music.

WEDNESDAY DAWNED as bright and sunny as Kate’s mood. Working in the studio the night before had revived and excited her. Today, along with trying to find out more about Claire and Ellen, Kate wanted to check the latest news on Ned Castile. She also wanted to research St. Lucy’s and find any history available on its stained-glass windows. She also had to volunteer at the Faith Freezer house after lunch. So many tasks, so little time.

Before tackling anything else, however, she made coffee and snuggled into her favorite rocking chair to read her Bible and pray. The devotional reading that morning had to do with being anxious for nothing and knowing that the Lord would provide her every need.

What a hard lesson to learn. Yet hadn’t God always provided for them?

Kate sent up a thank-you. Lord, you have met all my needs and more. What a wonderful life Paul and I have. At the moment she almost felt guilty. How many women had this kind of opportunity—to sit quietly each morning, enjoying coffee and the sunshine streaming through the windows, new buds on the trees, and colorful tulips, crocuses, and daffodils?

Thoughts of Troy Eaton came to mind. He had come into the diner Monday morning needing help, and help came to him. She hoped Troy would let them know how he was doing. She prayed again for his family and that he would find work and a place for them to live.

AT TEN THIRTY, reluctant to leave her studio, Kate went into the master bedroom to change out of her work clothes and grab a much-needed shower. Half an hour later, feeling comfortable and presentable in khaki slacks and a short-sleeved blue sweater, Kate settled into her Honda and aimed the car toward Town Hall.

She had meant to call Skip earlier to get Ellen’s and Claire’s last names but had forgotten. Now, since she was going into town anyway, Kate figured she might as well stop by and see the deputy in person.

Kate parked in front of Town Hall. On her way into the historic building, she paused to admire the tulip gardens on either side of the walkway. Once inside, she headed for the deputy’s office and found Skip filling out a form at his desk. Behind him, Sheriff Roberts looked equally busy. They both looked up and greeted her when she walked in.

“Can I help you, Mrs. Hanlon?” Skip asked.

“Sorry to interrupt, but I wanted to ask about the situation we had yesterday. Can you give me Ellen’s last name?”

“Last name?” Skip held his hands up. “Mrs. Hanlon, I hardly remember their first names.”

“So you didn’t file a report?” Disappointment flooded her.

“What report?” Sheriff Roberts’ disapproving gaze moved from Kate to his deputy.

“Just that missing-person call yesterday,” Skip said. “Well, she wasn’t exactly missing; Mrs. Hanlon had her.”

Sheriff Roberts frowned. “Maybe you’d better fill me in.”

Skip looked embarrassed. “I didn’t figure we needed to do anything on our end. Mrs. Hanlon called me earlier to let me know she had this Claire lady. A little while later, this woman called to tell me her mother, Claire, was missing, and I just gave her the address for the Hanlon house and called Mrs. Hanlon.” Skip hesitated. “Should I have written it up?”

The sheriff rubbed a hand across his face and through his hair. “Yes, Skip, you should have. And you shouldn’t be giving out addresses like that. You should have verified first. For all you knew, the woman could have been a thief, or worse. Go ahead and write it up now. Maybe Kate can help you fill in the blanks.”

With a face almost as red as his hair, Skip mumbled an apology and pulled open a file drawer from which he extracted a report form.

She didn’t like exposing Skip’s blunder and wished now she hadn’t said anything in front of his boss. Kate wasn’t able to supply much more than a description of the two women and their first names.

“I’m afraid that’s all I have. I don’t know why Ellen never gave me her last name. I have the feeling she didn’t want me to know.” Kate planned to check out the family anyway. She didn’t think the Earl or Countess of Eltonborough would be too hard to find on the Internet.

Just then, a message came in on the sheriff’s radio about an accident. Kate didn’t quite catch it all, but Sheriff Roberts acknowledged the dispatch operator. “Be there in a few minutes.” Standing, he pulled his sagging belt up around his ample waist.

“Skip. Forget about that report for now. We have more pressing matters. We have an accident over on Mountain Laurel Road.”

He stepped around the desk and headed for the door. “Don’t mean to be rude, Kate, but we need to go.”

“No problem.” Kate thought about asking what had happened but decided against it. They didn’t need to waste precious time filling her in. Besides, based on past experience, she knew the sheriff probably wouldn’t tell her anyway.

Kate had helped solve a number of mysteries in town, for which he’d been grateful, albeit reluctantly. Over time, they’d become friends, and on occasion he even asked for her help. Still, he preferred not to involve her or any other civilian in police business. Kate understood and respected that.

They all stepped out of the office, and Skip closed the door behind them. She followed them past the old copper-mine display and out the double glass doors.

Outside, as she descended the concrete stairs and made her way along the tree-lined walkway toward her car, Kate reviewed her to-do list and headed to the pharmacy to pick up several personal items along with a prescription for pain pills which she occasionally took for her knee.

When Kate walked into the pharmacy, she found the owner, Fred Cowan, muttering to himself and looking over a ledger.

“Hi, Fred.” Kate paused on her way back to the aisles.

“Hmm.” Fred frowned and finally looked over at her. “What did you say?”

She waved. “Just saying hello.”

“Oh, yeah.” Fred took off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose.

“Is something wrong? You seem preoccupied.”

“Guess I am. I just realized some of my inventory is missing. I think I’ve been robbed.”