Chapter Forty

Midday Monday

Rita refused to let go of Rose when the emergency team tried to put her on the gurney. She carried her to the ambulance and got in with her, crying, laughing, calling her name, stroking her tangled dark hair.

The sheriff and second deputy left with Joan, still moaning, and Sara, still cussing. Deputy Merrill began taking names of witnesses, many of whom had tears in their eyes. Vicky exchanged insurance information with the driver of the car she hit.

Sam smoothed her apron and shouted over the hubbub. “Sorry, I need everyone to get your stuff and clear out. The diner’s closing. Don’t worry about your checks.”

She put her arm around Vicky and helped her limp toward the diner. Vicky scanned the crowd. No sign of Pete, or Mike, or Don. Man, Don was going to be mad he missed all this. Be hard to put himself in the middle of this part of the story.

“What about my breakfast?” An old man in the crowd called out. “I want my eggs and sausage.”

Sam waved at him, smiling. “We’ll open as usual in the morning. Thanks for coming.”

“Dammit. Things were just getting interesting around here.” There was more good-natured grumbling from people in the crowd, who took their time leaving. The adrenaline rush had created energy some apparently didn’t want to end. Vicky suspected a couple might even feel a little regretful that there had been no major bloodshed after all the high drama and danger.

****

The diner was empty except for Sam, Vicky, and Deputy Merrill, who’d taken Vicky’s preliminary statement. Vicky wondered what happened at the meeting that Joan had obviously missed. When he opened the door to leave, the deputy leaned back in to say, “There’s people here say they need to see Miz Robeson.”

Pete, Mike, and Liz Ann crowded through the door. After minutes of hugs and excited comments, they all settled into the corner table that gave the cafe its name. Pete and Mike were both deeply disappointed they’d missed the entire event. Mike had dropped Pete to pick up a rental car, then gone on to the beneficiary meeting. In the lawyer’s back office he hadn’t heard the gunshots or the sounds of the crash.

Pete said something uncharacteristically vague about the slow rental car clerk and having to see about the RV before he hit the road.

Surely he hadn’t come back just to say goodbye?

“Then Vicky shoved her, hard.” Sam demonstrated as she recounted what Vicky had mentally labeled Showdown at the Corner Café, even though it’d happened a half block away. “I was hoping she would do something like that, but afraid she would, too.”

Liz Ann squeezed Vicky’s arm. “That took some guts.”

Vicky shook her head. “Actually, I just didn’t want to die.”

“I’d have peed my pants.” Liz Ann gave an exaggerated shudder.

Vicky’s grin was slightly loopy. “Good thing I’m wearing dark jeans.” She’d finally caught up on her pain meds and was now thoroughly relaxed.

“I had no idea Joan would pull something like that,” Mike said. “I figured we’d have our vote, do the deal, and be done with it.”

“I guess I goaded her a bit.” Vicky hadn’t entirely decided whether that had been a mistake. “Was it just you at the meeting, then?”

Mike shrugged slightly.

“So you got it all? All the property, even Joan’s place?” Sam sounded thoughtful. “And all the frack sand money too?”

Mike frowned. “That’s nobody’s business—”

There was a familiar, rhythmic knock at the door. “Sam? It’s Hal Linden.”

Sam slid out of the booth to open the door for the sheriff. They spoke briefly, heads close. He took off his hat and walked to the corner booth. “I just came from the hospital. It looks like Rose is going to be fine. She’d been drugged and tied up—could have been for the whole two weeks—but doctors say otherwise she appears physically unhurt. Her mama said to say thank you to Miz Robeson.” He tipped his head at Vicky. “Thank you.”

She sagged with relief. “Call me Vicky.”

Liz Ann hugged her, laughing. “Thank you, Miz Robeson.”

“Have a seat.” Sam got the coffeepot and a mug before returning to the booth.

“Is Rose awake?” Vicky asked.

“She’s awake and talking. She’s mad. Girl’s a little spitfire.” He sat down as Sam poured coffee. “She’s safe, thanks to y’all, especially you, Miz Robeson.”

“Vicky.”

“Vicky. Though things could have gone wrong, real wrong. You should’ve come to us instead of confronting her.”

“I know you have to say that, but it wasn’t exactly planned.”

“We’ll need to get a formal statement from you tomorrow. In the meantime, I wanted to follow up on a few things.”

“Sure. Was Rose in the toolbox the whole time?”

“It looks like she kept her in a hidey-hole under her root cellar floor.”

“Omigod, was that poor girl there when I was at Joan’s?” Vicky immediately did her usual instant self-appraisal, a reaction she attributed to decades working in live television news. She might have sounded a bit self-centered.

“That seems likely,” Linden said.

Mike frowned. “She’s a hard case, but I never expected her to do anything like this.”

“Hal, has she said why she did it?” Sam asked.

“She still hasn’t said a word, just moans. Sara’s talking. She claims Joan tricked her.”

Vicky felt sorry for Sara, who seemed like someone who started off okay, then took a wrong turn or two and ended up in dangerous waters way over her head. “She needs a lawyer.”

“We read her her rights.” Sheriff Linden did not seem the least bit sympathetic.

“Still.” Vicky shook her head. “Man, I’ve tried to remember everything we talked about when I was out at Joan’s place. I thought she was just tired of holding things in. Now I wonder if she was playing some weird game, talking to me, all the time with Rose in her basement.”

“Maybe.” Linden shrugged. “Doubt you could have heard her, even if she’d been screaming her head off. Joan’s daddy built that hole solid, to hide stuff.”

“Even so, it was brazen of her to let you in her house while she had Rose,” said Pete.

“She kept checking the time. I thought she just wanted to get rid of me, but she must have been keeping track of when Rose would wake up.”

“Strange she talked to you at all,” said Mike.

“I think Joan was trying to find out what I knew, what people had told me. It’s a good thing she’s one of the first people I talked to. About all I knew then was that Kerry saw a leather bag on her porch.”

“Maybe she was trying to get close to you, so you wouldn’t suspect her,” said Liz Ann.

“Maybe.” Vicky was disappointed she hadn’t caught on to Joan when she first sat in her kitchen. “It kinda worked, for a while.”

The sheriff said, “Mike, seems Joan might have the idea you’re Rose’s daddy.”

“What? Me? No way.” Mike frowned. “Why?”

Vicky asked, “Are you?”

“No chance.” Mike shook his head.

“She had paperwork in her truck,” Linden said. “A DNA report with your name on it.”

“What? That’s ridiculous. I don’t have any kids.” Mike was either sincerely perplexed, or a particularly good actor.

Vicky nodded an ‘aha’ kind of nod. “Oh, so it was Joan you and George were talking about in the diner. Who he’d seen sneaking around your place? She might have been getting something for a DNA sample.”

Mike shook his head. “I had a feeling you were listening to us. Man, you are nosy.”

“I couldn’t help but hear. Hey, so Sara said Joan wanted to keep Rose away from some meeting, which must have been the beneficiary meeting. Why else would she do that, Mike?”

“Guess you’ll need to ask her.”

“Maybe Joan thought she’d have to give up a share of the estate to your daughter.” Vicky tilted her head. That made sense.

"I don’t have a daughter.”

A few silent seconds ticked by before Vicky spoke. “You do know her Mom, though, right? Rita?”

Mike shook his head impatiently. “Dammit. This is nobody’s damn business. I told you about the will. I’m not hiding anything. Grandpa was always after me, telling me to have a bunch of kids so we’d get a bigger share of the land after he was gone. I don’t want kids. Never did. Got myself fixed in my twenties.”

He looked around like he was daring someone to comment.

Sam spoke up. “Mike isn’t Rose’s father. Rita’s ex who lives in Colorado is. The sheriff here questioned him when she went missing.” She said to Linden, “Rita told me.”

Linden was silent, didn’t confirm or deny, though a ghost of a grin danced under his serious demeanor. Vicky was almost certain there was something going on between him and Sam. They’d make a nice couple.

“Not to gossip,” said Sam, “but Rita’s getting back together with the dad. He’s paying back child support. She’s getting him added to Rose’s birth certificate. In fact, Rita was meeting with her lawyer about that when Rose was kidnapped.”

“So.” Vicky lifted both hands. “Maybe Joan just wanted to know for sure whether Mike was dad. Guess that’ll all come out later.”

Pete asked, “Sheriff, was it Joan who blew up my RV?”

“We’re still investigating.”

“She didn’t deny it,” said Vicky. “She must have been trying to scare us off, afraid we’d mess up the frack deal.”

Liz Ann piped up, “Who else would’ve done it?”

“Don maybe?” Pete turned to Sam. “He got here awful fast when you called 9-1-1.”

“Don swears he had nothing to do with that, and he’s sticking to his story about his gun.” Linden sipped his coffee. “We’ll be digging into his older stuff, especially the cave.”

“He’s a nosy old fart who talks too much,” said Sam, “but I don’t see him trying to blow someone up.”

“He did say he called Rick Carr to tell him Miz Robeson was in town, but he always told Rick whenever something was going on.” Linden was downright chatty, possibly due to a combination of stress, exhaustion, and exhilaration.

“Huh. Rick didn’t mention that.” Vicky was sick of thinking about him. It was up to Kerry and the sheriff to look into Rick, his father, and any misdeeds. “Bet Don’s got plenty more to say about what’s gone on around here. And it’s interesting Sara called Joan a blackmailer.”

“Did Joan have anything to do with the cave?” asked Sam.

“Don’t know yet,” Linden replied. “Don says her daddy did, so could be.”

“Have you been able to find out anything about the people in the cave?” Normally Vicky would have said bodies, but she was trying to be sensitive to Sam’s feelings.

That proved unnecessary. Sam asked, “Yeah, did you ID the bodies?”

“We’re not ready to release names yet.” Sheriff Linden sat back. “So don’t repeat this.”

Vicky didn’t hesitate. She agreed along with everyone else.

“Sam, I wanted you to hear this from me.” Linden put his hand near hers on the table. “One of the women’s been there years longer than the others. We’re working on a DNA match, but according to the driver’s license on her, it looks to be Phil and Jennie Hanford’s girl. I know you were close to them.”

Linden glanced away from Sam to address the others. “They built this diner. Their daughter disappeared years ago.”

Sam’s face was impassive. “Phil and Jennie never believed she just up and left them. What about the others?”

Sheriff Linden shook his head. Vicky cajoled, “C’mon, Sheriff. You might as well tell us. It’s all going to come out, anyway.”

Linden looked around the table.

Sam added, “C’mon, Hal. Who were they?”

The sheriff frowned at Vicky. “This stays quiet for now.” She dipped her chin a fraction.

“The man’s ID says he was Randolph Tripp. Don says a fella by that name used to come around, back when they used the cave to store booze and cigarettes.”

“And kidnapped women,” Vicky added. “So, the other woman is Sam’s mom.”

“Probably, but she had no ID, and she was too far gone for fingerprints.”

“Marsha.” Sam took a deep breath. “Marsha Sutton. My mama’s name was Marsha Sutton.”