The Poisoned Pen. E. Joan Sims
Читать онлайн книгу.
changed the subject without batting an eyelash.
“Are you going back in the field, dear?”
“I was considering it, but I don’t want to get in the way of the police.”
“I think you should, Paisley. Perhaps you could help with the children. Take them something to eat, or….”
“Just a minute, Mother! The kids are still back there? Why in the blue-eyed world haven’t they gone home? Aren’t their parents worried sick?”
“The woman who called me said Andy Joiner wanted everyone to stay exactly where they were until he got there.”
I didn’t want to go. I didn’t even want to think about it. When Cassie was small I used to wake up in the wee small hours, sweating and terrified that she had gone missing like her father.
“I’ll go,” I sighed. “Do you have some sweet tea or lemonade in the fridge? That might help. And maybe some cookies.”
Mother smiled and patted my hand. “Yes, dear. I’ll have everything ready in a minute. Perhaps Cassie would like to keep you company. You two make a good team.”
I found Cassie curled up on my bed with the nasty little puppy asleep in her arms. She was crying softly into the dog’s furry neck.
“Oh, darling, don’t cry! They’ll find her.” I lay down next to her and stroked her hair. Aggie raised her sleepy head and bared her upper teeth. I got out of the way a second before she lunged and snapped—missing my fingers by barely an inch. Cassie stopped crying and began to laugh.
“Oh, Mom!” she gasped. “You should have seen the look on your face!”
“Damn, damn, and double damn! That rotten little beast!”
“Mom!”
“Okay,” I sighed. “If it makes you happy—the stinking little….”
“Mom….”
“Okay,” I smiled. “She can bite me anytime.” Nevertheless, I placed the other pillow carefully between me and Aggie before I sat back down. “Gran is fixing some tea and cookies for me to take to the soccer kiddies and their moms. Want to go with?”
“Sure,” she smiled, wiping away the tears.
“Bad memories, Cassie?” I asked, unsure as to how far I should go.
“Yeah. You know—Daddy and everything.” She looked out the big bay window, watching the fireflies dance in the deepening twilight before she continued. “I was always so afraid that you would vanish the same way he did,” she said in a voice hoarse with more unshed tears.
“Looks like each of us was afraid of the same thing. We should have had this little talk long before now. It might have saved us both a lot of sleepless nights.” I squeezed her hand as I made a promise. “I love you, kitten, and I’ll never, ever, go anywhere without leaving you a forwarding address.” I started to hug her, but Aggie gave another deep, throaty, warning growl so I settled for a big, noisy, kiss in the air instead. “Ready to go play Clara Barton?”
“Clara Barton…now, don’t tell me. She’s the femme fatale with the famous lips who starred in the early silent films. Right?”
“Cassie, Clara Barton was….”
“No! Let me guess. You’re always pulling these old movie stars out of a hat. You have to give me time to think. Westerns? Was she in that western with Harry Cooper?”
Chapter Three
With some difficulty Cassie and I carried a large cooler filled to the brim with ice and several jugs of sweet tea and lemonade to my Jeep. We chucked it inside and carefully loaded the two large tins of homemade cookies in the front seat.
“Come back for more tea if you run out, dear. I’m afraid I don’t have any more cookies, but I can come up with something else if need be.”
“Thanks, Mother, but I’m sure the kid’s already been found by now. How far could she go, anyway?”
“Not very far on her own, dear; but that doesn’t seem to be the concern.”
“Oh.”
My thoughts returned to dark and gloomy as Cassie and I bounced down the lane that led to the backfield. The brown eyes that stared back at me from Watson’s rear view mirror were cloudy with concern, and my face was so pale even the freckles had disappeared. “Do you really think there is anyone in Lakeland County who’s mean enough to kidnap a little girl?”
“Give me a break, Mom! I love living here. Who wouldn’t? But you have to admit we have out share of weirdoes.”
“Yeah, but eccentric weirdoes—like Mr. Budd, or Dora Nick, or even Horatio Raleigh”
“Horatio? Why, Horatio? Because he’s been in love with Gran for the last five decades?”
“That, too; but I was thinking it was because he’s the only ex-member of a clandestine government intelligence operation who’s managed to turn funerals into an art form.”
“Very funny, Mom.”
“Well, I’m trying.”
Horatio Raleigh had been a friend of my family for years. He and Mother had gone to school together, and he had always had a crush on her. When my father came to live in Rowan Springs after the war—and stole my mother’s heart, Horatio had graciously stepped aside. He remained at a loyal and respectful distance until two years after John Sterling passed away, then resumed his courtship.
I was fairly certain that my mother would never marry again, but Horatio refused to give up hope. He turned the funeral home over to his nephew and spent his days cheerfully doing Mother’s bidding. Only the passing of a dear friend, or the offer of an exorbitant fee for his “special consultation” could draw him out of retirement. I was glad for his constant attentions to my mother because he made her happy; but I also loved the old man, and I prized his expert opinion on many things.
Watson burst out of the shadowy tunnel of the lane and into the open field beyond. The going was a lot rougher as we bounced over furrows—tall grass slapping at the windscreen and showering us with seeds. And it was getting darker with every passing minute.
“Mom! For Pete’s sake! You’re shaking my fillings loose.”
“Oh, sorry, honey. I’ll slow down.”
“You don’t fool me at all! This is exactly why you wanted to buy Watson in the first place. You’re having the time of your life!”
Andy Joiner had parked his cruiser with the headlights shining towards the tangled thicket at the end of the soccer field. Dad had built us a tree house in that woodsy glen when Velvet and I were children—when it wasn’t so overgrown. Later, he insisted that the forest remain in its natural state so that the animals—deer, rabbits, and foxes would have a place to forage and raise their young. I still remembered every inch of the place we called “the jungle.” If Nell Jane were lost in there, I would be the perfect candidate to go in after her.
“But, damn it, Andy! I spent half my childhood playing Tarzan in that thicket! And to tell you the truth,” I said, lowering my voice, “your deputies are a little too porky to go crawling around under those vines. Now, I could….”
“Paisley, you know perfectly well that I can’t let a civilian take part in a potentially hazardous police investigation.”
“Then deputize me! I’ll be the best deputy you’ve ever had! Please, Andy, please!”
“Well, I don’t know,” he said, scratching his head, then rolling his hat brim nervously his big hands. “We’re not real sure of what we’re dealing with here.”
“One thing’s for certain—a frightened little girl is lost and we’re wasting valuable time hemming and hawing.”
“Okay,”