Sleuthing at Sweet Springs (The Sleuth Sisters Mysteries Book 4) (19 page)

After picking up the rental car he’d arranged, Lars followed Rory and I to the cabin. Rory joked that Lars would get lost without a guide, being a city slicker, and Lars replied he could always call in an FBI drone to locate any place on the planet. When we arrived, Lars was like a kid at summer camp, running his hands over the backs of the chairs, the mantel, and even the water pump, as if marking them with his scent.

Since it was his first time staying at the cabin alone, Rory explained how to keep the fire going and how to work the generator. Lars’ expression as he listened was serious, as if it were February and not October.

I hoped to have time to tell Lars about the harassment Rory had been receiving. Since things had become more serious, I wanted advice on how to proceed. It only took a suggestion that there might not be enough wood in the cabin to get Rory on his feet. Lars rose to help, but I shook my head, signaling I wanted him to stay. Catching on, Lars went to the pump instead and refilled his cup with water.

While Rory was gone, I explained the situation. “I’ve tracked down one of the perpetrators,” I said in conclusion, “but I don’t know what to do next. Do I tell Rory what I’ve got and let him take over? Do I give the information to the state police?”

Lars thought about it. “There’s a second person involved but you don’t know who she is?”

“My source thinks Harold Gager does the on-line stuff and a woman makes the calls. It’s possible they’re operating separately but more likely they’re cooperating.”

“I’m guessing you found this guy in a way that won’t be admissible as evidence in court.”

I felt my face flush. “Yes.”

He didn’t seem bothered by that. “If you identify one of them the other could keep it going. When that happens, a lawyer will argue it wasn’t him in the first place. We need to get them both.”

I liked that he said
we
. Lars was already on board.

“Let me think on this for a while and see what I come up with.” He put a strong hand on my arm, and I felt as if I’d entered into a solid, firm alliance.

Rory entered with an armload of wood and dumped it into the wood box, making a terrible clatter. “There. If the fire should go out, you know how to get it started again.”

“Sure.”

There was further discussion of problems that might arise, but Lars contended he could handle them. After he’d asked three times if Lars would be okay, Rory turned to me. “Let’s go, Barb.”

As we left, our favorite FBI man’s frame filled the cabin doorway, a boyish grin on his face. Mom and Dad were trusting little Lars to stay home alone, and he was thrilled about it.

It was hard to believe Barbara had chosen to tell me and not Faye about her plan to rescue Rory’s reputation, but it was probably due more to timing than anything else. The only thing she hadn’t revealed was her source, but that hadn’t stopped me for long. I simply expressed a desire for a Coke, and while she went to get it, peeked at her phone. (Her code is her birthday, which I’m sure she thinks is really clever.) Her last caller was Cramer, which surprised me. I’ve never seen Faye’s boys as go-getters, though it wasn’t for lack of brains. It was more a tendency to be satisfied with where they were and what they had.

I was angry that someone was harassing Rory, who was a darned good police chief. When he’d arrived in Allport the year before, he had interested me as a man, and I’d done a little flirting in those first few weeks. As soon as I figured out he wasn’t my type, I’d set to work getting him and Barbara together. They’re two of a kind: so honest and dutiful they’re kind of boring.

If some low-life people were making trouble for Rory, we had to stop them. I considered how it might be done, but nothing I came up with seemed workable. We didn’t have the power to order them to stop, and if we turned the name Cramer had found over to the state police, Rory’s reputation would get dragged through the mud when the case went to court. Like our dad used to say, “Throw enough mud at a person and some of it will stick.”

Barbara and I were apparently thinking along the same lines, because she called me after supper. “Faye and I have been talking, Retta, and we’d like to do something tomorrow.”

“Good,” I responded. “Let’s stop these people who are threatening Rory’s job.”

In response she said the oddest thing ever. “That wasn’t what I meant. We’re going to take a trip.”

“What?”

“The three of us should go away for the day.” She cleared her throat. “With time away, maybe we’ll figure something out.”

Miss I-plan-everything-six-weeks-ahead was asking me to drop everything for a girls’ day out? “We’re in the middle of two cases, Barbara Ann. Rory’s being harassed and you know who one of the culprits is. And you want to take a trip?”

“Nothing’s going to happen before Monday.”

“And I have to fly to Wisconsin on Monday.”

“Right, but if we figure out what we’re going to do over the weekend, Faye and I can handle it between her trips to feed the chickens. Why shouldn’t we enjoy the fall colors for a day?”

She sounded so weird, so un-Barbara-like, that I became suspicious. “So when Faye asked me to go to the Meadows with her tomorrow, she was setting me up for this sisters’ day out?”

“Maybe.”

I tapped my fingers on the doorframe, puzzled. “Barbara, what’s this really all about?”

“Can’t we just have a nice time without you getting all fussy?” Calming herself with a little cough, she started over. “I thought we’d ride the Algoma Railway. Faye’s always wanted to go, and it’s the perfect time of year. On the way up there, we’ll decide what to do about Rory’s problem.”

Letting out a sigh, I said, “I guess that works.” There was more to it than she was letting on, but at least my sisters weren’t leaving me behind, like they used to when we were kids. I was part of their plan, though I wasn’t sure why.

I hadn’t answered Barbara’s last attempt to defend the Oxford comma, a text she’d sent without explanation.
Among those interviewed were Merle Haggard’s two ex-wives, Kris Kristofferson and Robert Duval
.

Though I saw her point, strict grammarians like Barbara never give people credit for being able to figure out what a sentence is trying to get across. They’re as bad as those people who put
Contains Nuts
on a bag of cashews.

I was eating a piece of pie when the phone rang. Pie is my specialty and my weakness, and I’d made pumpkin in honor of October and chocolate because it’s my favorite. I’d cut myself a tiny slice of each. Who can decide which is better? Not me!

It was Rick Chou calling, and it was cute how eager he was to get another chance to see me. I toyed with the idea of inviting him over for pie, but I said, “Can’t see you tonight. I’ve got to go to bed early so I can get up before dawn.”

“That’s not a problem for me.”

His tone was suggestive, but I just laughed. “I meant I’ve got to go to
sleep
early.”

“I was hoping you could give me a better end to the day than I had at the beginning,” he said, sounding pouty.

“What happened?”

“One of Allport’s finest gave me a ticket.”

“Oh, no! What for?”

“This old woman with a cane was crossing the street right there near the movie theater. I was waiting to make a turn, and she held me up till the light turned red. I honked the horn to let her know about it before I scooted down the street. I didn’t see the cop sitting across the intersection.”

“But he saw you.”

“Gave me a ticket for an unsafe turn.” He was still angry. “Old people shouldn’t leave the house if they can’t keep up with traffic patterns.”

“Don’t be such a grump,” I chided. “Even old people have to get out sometimes.”

“I suppose.” He changed the subject. “Did you hear about the real estate agent who drowned?”

“Yes. I met her recently.” The pie was calling to me, and I wondered if I had time to take a bite between conversational turns. It was still warm, for pity’s sake.

“She’d listed my house. I’ve asked the other woman in the office to take over, but I hope it doesn’t slow things down.”

“That might be a good thing if it keeps you here longer.”

“Not possible,” he said, then he picked up on my flirtatious tone. “Oh, I get what you mean. I wouldn’t mind if I got to see a little more of you.” He let the double entendre sit there for a second before adding, “Still, I have things to do in Grand Rapids.”

“Busy, busy?”

He sighed. “If the sale doesn’t go through next week, I’ll have to come back later in the month to finalize things.”

Faye’s suspicion that Rick might have been Gail’s partner came to mind and I asked innocently, “And after that? Will you have any reason to come back to Allport once the house sells?”

“None,” he said, “unless a certain lady makes it worth my while to drive up here.”

“You don’t like this area?”

“To tell you the truth, I’m a city boy. My first wife was the one who wanted a house on Lake Huron, and it’s been nothing but a money pit. I’ll be glad to see it gone.”

“Your first wife?”

There was a long pause. “She died.”

“Oh, Rick, I’m so sorry.” Now the pie didn’t seem so important, and I shoved the plate away. The poor man!

“Thank you.”

I switched the conversation to more pleasant things, promising to call him soon so we could get together. Faye was wrong about Rick, I thought as we ended the call. He wasn’t interested in anything in Allport—except maybe me. He’d dealt with a lot of sorrow, too, a dead first wife and a second one with mental issues. He deserved a little fun, and if I could provide it, I was willing. Out of respect for Barbara’s opinion, though, I decided I’d finish the case first. Once Rick was no longer a client of the Smart Detective Agency, I could say for myself what he’d be to Retta Stilson.

The Algoma Central Railway provides the opportunity for a beautiful ride through the Canadian wilderness. I’ll say that up front. As for the rest of Barb’s idea, it wasn’t the greatest.

In the first place, the train left at eight a.m., which meant we had to leave Allport before five. When we stopped at her house, Retta came out dressed but hardly awake, crawled into the back seat of Barb’s car with her pillow and blanket, and promptly went back to sleep.

The ride was dark for most of the way. Barb was uneasy about the surprise she’d arranged, and it showed. Luckily, Retta was too busy napping to notice. We crossed the Mackinac Bridge to Michigan’s Upper Peninsula, often known simply as the U.P. Continuing due north, we took the Ambassador Bridge into Canada. Our entry was uneventful, since I’d remembered when we picked her up to ask Retta if she had her passport. She’d forgotten, but it hadn’t taken me long to run into her house, find it, and put it with Barb’s and mine in an envelope I’d brought along for that purpose. That made crossing into Canada easy, and we got to the railway station on time. The train was waiting, making little huffs and hisses as people moved busily around it, preparing for departure.

The mood changed when we entered the building and saw the three guys sitting there. Retta made a little gasp, and the look she turned on us was accusing.

“Surprise.” Barb’s smile was weak.

For once Retta was speechless, but it didn’t matter. Lars was on his feet, approaching with arms raised. “Hey, there, lady. Are you glad to see me?”

In a performance worthy of an Oscar, Retta squelched the anger I’d seen oh-so-briefly and put on a smile. “Lars Johannsen, you devil! I’m totally shocked.” Turning her face slightly toward Barb she added, “I can’t believe you pulled this off.”

Rory and Dale had come up behind Lars, and I saw relief on their faces. Being men, they’d concluded things were going to be all right. Being Retta’s sister, I knew they weren’t.

If I hadn’t known better, the day would have been completely relaxing. We got on the train. We rode through beautiful country, tracing colorful hills and a wide river. We saw waterfalls. We crossed trestle bridges. It was quite a journey.

At the park, we broke off as couples to explore. I’d made sandwiches, coleslaw, and peanut butter cookies and arranged portions in three different cooler bags. The others planned to do some hiking, but Dale and I stayed on the level ground close to the station. After walking around a little we settled at a table and ate our lunch, enjoying the peaceful quiet.

Rory and Barb took the River Trail, which according to the signs went past a couple of waterfalls. Somewhere along the way they would stop and eat their lunch, probably with the roar of water just over their shoulders. It would be lovely, but Barb would be distracted, wondering what Retta would do to repay her for interfering in her love life. Hiking was probably good as she worked off her worry with physical exertion.

Retta and Lars took the most energetic trail, Lookout. Just reading the pamphlet made me tired:
A challenge for the adventurous and energetic, this trail ascends 250 feet above the tracks to provide a breathtaking, panoramic view of the canyon…over 300 stairs that lead you to large wooden viewing platforms, where you can catch your breath until the view takes it away again
.

They said it would be fun. I told them I thought it would be torture. Still, it gave them time together, which after all was why Barb had planned the trip. Not that Retta would forgive her just because we all had a day of fun.

Barb had learned the name of the man she thought was telling lies about Rory, though she didn’t tell me how she knew. We’d talked on the ride north about how he might be stopped, but neither of us had a workable idea. Of course, once Rory was present, the subject was dropped. I wondered who knew what in our little group. Was Rory aware that Retta and I knew about his problem? Did Lars know? It might have been easier if we’d all laid our cards on the table and attacked the problem together, but sadly, that’s not how people do things most of the time.

The ride back was pretty quiet. Dale napped, and Lars, Rory, and Barb kept checking their phones for a signal. Once the train’s motion settled into a smooth, gentle rock, Retta announced she needed to find the rest room and wanted me to guard the door. Of course I knew she really wanted to talk to me, so I agreed without pointing out that the train’s bathroom doors had perfectly good closure devices. As I left my seat, Barb shot me a helpless glance, but I simply rolled my eyes in response. There was no avoiding Retta’s revenge, whatever it turned out to be.

To my surprise, there were no questions about why or how or who was to blame. Retta was on a completely different tack.

“Lars and I talked about Rory’s stalkers,” she began. “He thinks we should confront them privately rather than arresting them and making the whole thing public.”

That seemed an odd position for an FBI man to take until I thought it through. “If they’re arrested and tried, people will take sides. Their lawyers will accuse the mayor and the police of protecting their own, and they’ll have to bend over backward to prove they aren’t doing that.”

“Exactly,” Retta agreed. “If half of Allport believes a quarter of what they say, Rory’s reputation will be damaged beyond repair.”

Glancing out the window at miles and miles of trees, I thought of the whispers that would persist, even if Miss Tattletale and her partner were found guilty. “It’s sad, but many people believe the worst of others, especially when they’re cops.” I returned my gaze to Retta. “Does Lars know how to stop them?”

Retta grinned. “I think I do, but here’s the deal: Barbara Ann isn’t going to know a thing about it till it’s over.”

I raised a hand in a gesture that ended up looking as if I were fending off a blow. “Retta—”

“What, Faye? She went behind my back to do something she intended to be a good thing, right?”

“She just wanted to—”

“—let me know she disapproves of my behavior.” An abrupt wave dismissed Barb’s wants. “I can’t say I’m not glad to see Lars. But she needs to know what it feels like to be left out of things. Lars and I are going to take care of Rory’s problem, and Barbara Ann will find out about it when it’s done.”

“I wish you wouldn’t—”

“What? Help Rory save his job?”

“Well, no, but it might be dangerous.”

“I’ve got Lars, which is almost as good as the whole FBI. We can handle this.” With that, Retta stepped into the bathroom and closed the door in my face.