Читать книгу Silent Sabotage - Susan Sleeman - Страница 13

FOUR

The afternoon flew by and Emily couldn’t believe she’d managed to get everything organized for the small carnival. She wouldn’t have been able to do it without Archer. He pitched in wherever needed, and that included the last item on her list, gathering eggs from the coop so she could sell them. She’d built rollout nest boxes that would allow him simply to open the back to retrieve eggs without entering the coop or sticking his hand under a chicken, but he still puckered his lips as he started gathering.

She forced her mind from those lips that she suspected had kissed many women and went over her list one more time. She realized she hadn’t seen Birdie for some time so she went to check on her and found her in the kitchen eating a large bowl of cereal.

Emily watched her aunt from the door for a few moments. She had a mop of wild, curly hair that she’d clipped up in the back, leaving tendrils sticking out in every direction. She’d changed into striped capris and a short-sleeved blue T-shirt much more in keeping with the warm temps.

She suddenly looked up and noticed Emily. The smile Emily treasured slid across Birdie’s face and brought tears to Emily’s eyes. She had to cherish each and every one of these smiles, as there were fewer and fewer of them as time passed.

“Hi, sweetie,” she said, her eyes clear and present in the moment.

Emily’s heart lifted at the return of her aunt. “The fund-raiser is all set up. Why don’t you come out and have some fun for a change?”

“I’m way too tired to attend.” She yawned and stretched. “I’m going to finish up my cereal and go to bed.”

Concerned, Emily stepped inside. “You’re not feeling ill are you?”

Birdie shook her head, her curls springing in every direction. “Stop worrying about me. Go enjoy the event you worked so hard to prepare, and I’ll be fine.”

“We do have a nice crowd building out there. I’m sure we’ll raise at least enough money for another loan payment.”

Birdie frowned and pushed back from the table. “I’m sorry I put you in this position.”

“It’s not your fault, and I won’t have you worrying about it.” Emily squeezed her aunt’s shoulders. “I’ll save some of the goodies for you so you can have them for lunch tomorrow.”

Birdie clutched Emily’s hand, as tears started to glisten in her own eyes. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Memories of walking through the same back door with a small suitcase and a broken heart washed over Emily. More tears threatened, but she forced them back and smiled. “Then we’re even. I had the same feeling many years ago when I came to live with you. Who knows what would have happened to me without your love and support. Now it’s my turn to give back.”

“Thank you for being so gracious.” Birdie gave Emily’s hand a kiss then released it. “Now scoot.”

Emily didn’t move. She wanted to stay. To enjoy the time when Birdie’s memory was so clear. To just bask in her aunt’s presence and enjoy the only person who’d loved her unconditionally. How she was going to miss the warmth, the affection when Birdie’s memory had been fully eclipsed.

She grabbed Birdie in a hug and held tight.

“Now, now,” Birdie cooed. “Everything’s going to be all right.”

No, it wouldn’t. Birdie would forget everything, even basic bodily functions, and Emily would be all alone unless she did something about it. But what could she do? Men were off-limits. She’d been raised in a highly dysfunctional and chaotic home. An alcoholic father who caroused and had affairs. A mother who paid him back with affairs of her own and didn’t bother to hide them. They fought all the time. Bickering. Snapping. Mean, ugly fights.

When the arguing got brutal, Emily had learned to take control of her own life. To go to the library or when it was closed to take a stroll through the park. Then her father took off and when Emily was thirteen, her mother chose a man who didn’t want children. So her mother left Emily on Birdie’s doorstep. Life might have been tough and her mother less than the parent Emily had wanted, but she was her mother and Emily had grieved her leaving like a death in the family.

Emily vowed then and there that she would never be hurt again. And to make sure that didn’t happen, she took control of everything. Of herself. Her surroundings. And she never...never...gave her heart to a man as her mother had done so many times.

Better to live alone as Birdie had all of her life. It had worked so far, and Emily was happier than her mother and father ever were. She wasn’t about to change that now. Especially for a man whose smile reminded her of all the men her mother readily gave in to.

Emily kissed Birdie’s papery cheek and went back outside just in time to see Archer come up the hill with a full basket of eggs. They were basically clean but had a few feathers and bits of shavings on them.

Not that Archer noticed. He had that same puckered expression lingering on his handsome face. “I imagine you want me to wash these before you sell them.”

“Washing eggs can allow bacteria to get inside the shell.” She grabbed a rag sitting by the empty cartons and handed it to him. “Just wipe the outside and put them in the cartons.”

His pucker grew, and she had to fight back a laugh. He was obviously a clean freak, and he was torn between handling the eggs again and running in the other direction.

“I can do it if you don’t want to,” she offered.

He shook his head hard and firmed his brow in determination. “No. I got it.”

The thought of having a guy around who put her needs first as he’d been doing brought a trickle of joy and she forced it away. The last thing she needed was to be beholden to this man.

“FYI,” he added. “Jake just texted me with an update on the shooting victims. Two are in stable condition and should be released soon.”

“And the other one?”

He frowned. “In surgery. He lost a lot of blood and is in critical condition.”

“Then he needs our prayers more than ever,” she replied softly, vowing to redouble her efforts to pray on his behalf. “Will Deputy Marsh keep you updated if anything changes?”

Archer nodded. “And as soon as I know anything I’ll make sure you know, too.” He lifted the basket. “I’ll get these done so I can help you with something else.”

She stepped away to find a quiet spot to pray, but turned back to check on him. Oddly enough, she was proud that he was able to clean and carton the eggs. A simple task for sure, but he’d done something he detested. Something for her and Birdie. A pure, selfless act. Sure, it was only boxing up eggs, but outside of the guys on the FRS today, no man had really put himself in an uncomfortable position for her, and she was touched that he continued to do so.

His generosity temporarily erased the bad day, allowing her to breeze through her tasks. Unfortunately, once the carnival was in full swing, Detective Carothers cut across the grass, ending her good mood. Archer hurried over to join him. They held a heated conversation, before they stepped up to her.

“Detective Carothers felt he needed to talk to you tonight,” Archer announced, his lips thinning in disapproval.

“My lieutenant insisted,” Carothers said. “We still need to look for accomplices and document the incident.”

“Accomplices?” She watched him for a moment. “You think because we were once part of the same group that I helped him, don’t you?”

Carothers leveled his gaze at her. “Did you?”

“I may know Delmar from Oregon Free, but I am not friends with him and would never help him or anyone else shoot innocent people, much less willingly wear a bomb vest.”

“Then why don’t we find someplace quiet and away from the crowd so you can tell me why you were at the mall today?”

“Good idea,” she huffed. “I’d like to get this cleared up once and for all. Follow me.” Emily led the way to a long picnic table down by their guest cottage. It sat in the middle of a gazebo covered with fragrant honeysuckle and was lit with sparkling white Christmas tree lights. She took a seat on the nearest bench.

Carothers sat across from her. Archer leaned a broad shoulder on an upright and crossed his ankles. On the surface, he looked relaxed and carefree, but she could see frustration lingering in his eyes. He was just as unhappy about Carothers’s untimely visit as she was.

Carothers flipped open his notebook. “Now, why were you at the mall?”

“As I put in my statement, a simple shopping trip,” she replied. “We needed soap for our guest bathrooms. We’ve recently made a name for ourselves as an all-natural inn and the mall is the only place close by that sells the soap we use.”

“So you didn’t know Delmar Withrow was going to be there?”

“No. Like I said, we’re not friends or anything, so how would I know that?”

“In fact, from your statement, it sounds like he hates you.”

She sighed. “I knew he blamed me for his sister’s death. That word spread around town fast, but the Oregon Free group kicked him out for his violent behavior, so I haven’t seen him since then. And before you ask, I didn’t know that the incidents that happened here weren’t accidents.”

“Why don’t you tell us more about them,” Archer said, earning a raised eyebrow from Carothers.

She swiveled to look up at him. “First, we had this large cast iron pot rack above the island in the kitchen. I was making sandwiches on the island one day when my phone rang. It was on the table so I stepped away to answer it. Just as I did, the rack fell. If I hadn’t moved, it would have hit me.” A shudder racked her body, but she ignored it. “In case you haven’t noticed, this place is in desperate need of repairs so we thought it was just one of the many items that needed to be fixed. Now Delmar claims he was behind it.”

“Not sure how he could know that it would hit you,” Carothers stated.

“True. It could have fallen at any time, but I’m the only one who cooks here so if it did hit anyone, it would be me.”

“And it would look like an accident if Delmar rigged it the right way,” Archer added.

“I’d like to see it.”

“I already checked it out,” Archer informed the detective. “The handyman repaired the holes and put in new bolts. There’s nothing to see there.”

“And the other incident?” Carothers asked.

She swung her attention back to him. “A few weeks later, I was in the garden just over the hill. I bent down to harvest a head of lettuce when an arrow flew over me, then lodged in a tree. If I hadn’t bent over...” She let her words fall off because she couldn’t say aloud that she now believed the incident was on purpose.

“And you said you called this in and it was determined that someone was hunting out of season and took off,” Archer added.

She nodded, but didn’t look at him. “But now it also looks like Delmar’s handiwork.” She shook her head. “This is all so unbelievable. I’m a corporate accountant. Or at least I was until I came back to help Birdie with the B and B. I sat in a cubicle. Ran numbers. Hardly a job where someone might try to use a bow and arrow to kill me.”

“Do you remember the date and time of these incidents?” Carothers asked.

“No,” she replied. “But the police report will have it for the arrow, right?”

“Right,” Archer said, then looked at Carothers. “If Withrow really is behind this, then we’ll need to see if he’s bow hunted in the past and if he has an alibi for that day.”

There was that we thing again. Was he really going to stay beyond today?

Carothers puffed up his chest and eyed Archer. “I’ll be doing just that. Since hunting licenses don’t fall under our jurisdiction it might take some time to get my hands on them, but I’ll start by asking Withrow about it and look for hunting equipment when we search his home.”

“We need to remember it could also be the person or persons that Delmar hinted at helping him,” Archer offered.

Carothers swung his laser focus back to her. “Any idea who might help Withrow?”

“I honestly don’t know very much about Delmar, but from what I do know, I’d guess the most likely person is Stan Fannon. He was engaged to Delmar’s sister Cindy and he was at the bridge the day she died. I saw him at an Oregon Free meeting after that and he clearly blames me, too.”

“He help plan the bombing?” Archer asked.

She shrugged. “He claimed that he was only there for the peaceful protest and no charges were filed against him. That’s why he wasn’t kicked out of the Oregon Free group.”

“Obviously the group believed him. Do you?”

Did she? “I did, but after seeing how crazy Delmar acted, I just don’t know anymore.”

Carothers made a note on his pad, then flipped the page. “Tell me everything you know about Fannon.”

“The only other thing I know is that he’s an electrician and he lives in Troutdale.”

“So he’s not a local?” Archer asked.

She shook her head.

“Back to these incidents at your B and B,” Carothers went on. “Can you think of anything else that happened that can now be attributed to Withrow? Especially something violent with Oregon Free.”

She didn’t have to think about her answer for very long. “Oregon Free, no, but there were some other incidents at the B and B. They weren’t life threatening but...”

Archer came to his feet. “Incidents like what?”

“I don’t know where to start.”

“Anywhere.” He smiled, revealing perfectly straight white teeth, and his already high cheekbones lifted. He was boyishly handsome and her heart flip-flopped, plus she felt a twinge of a smile starting.

Seriously? She’d just gone through a huge trauma and she was tempted to flirt with the guy. Unbelievable.

She directed her answer at Carothers. “The first thing that happened was our website reservation system failed. We didn’t realize it at first. We just thought business was slow for a few weeks and then a customer finally called and told us the reservation form didn’t work.”

“Could just have been a malfunction,” Carothers pointed out.

“That’s what we thought, too. But the guy we hired to fix it said it had been hacked. I can’t provide the specifics as everything he said was tech speak and I really didn’t understand it, but I can give you his contact information and you can get the details from him.”

“Did you report the crime?”

She shook her head. “Our repair guy said he doubted it would do any good as the police probably wouldn’t be able to track him. We put better security in place to prevent it from occurring again and were just grateful we could take reservations once more.”

“What else happened?” Archer asked.

“Our inventory system was hacked, too. The numbers were changed, making it look like we had supplies, but then when we’d go to retrieve them for use, the items were out of stock and we had to buy more expensive goods locally. For the longest time I thought it was because of Birdie’s failing memory until it all came to light.”

Archer shifted on his feet, widening his stance. “And is that all that happened?”

“No. Someone set up a roadblock on a busy weekend and turned guests away.”

“Did you report this incident?” Carothers asked.

She nodded. “We called your office but the deputy was unable to determine who was behind it. In addition to that, we’ve had deliveries that were mysteriously canceled or didn’t show up, and we had an infestation of bedbugs. All of this occurred in the last two months and has taken a serious toll on our business.”

“Anything special about the last two months that would make these things start happening?” Carothers probed.

“No clue. And honestly, as I tell you this, I don’t believe Delmar would be behind them. He clearly wanted to kill me and none of those things are life threatening.”

Following a long pause, Carothers shrugged his shoulders and said, “Maybe he wants to strike back at your aunt, too, by putting her out of business.”

“Maybe.” She pondered what would have happened to Birdie if Delmar had succeeded in his attempts to kill her and ran the business into the ground. Birdie could sell the property and make out okay, but who would care for her? She would have to be institutionalized.

The thought shattered Emily’s heart.

“I really need to get back to the fund-raiser,” she said, more determined than ever to make it a success.

“Fine.” Carothers handed her a business card. “In case you think of anything that might be helpful.”

“I’ll walk you to your car,” Archer offered in a way that Carothers couldn’t refuse.

Emily put the conversation behind her and went to greet her guests and to assist Birdie’s church friends who’d volunteered to work the carnival. At 9:00 p.m., when the crowd had finally thinned, she sat down by the food booth to count the proceeds. She held the metal cash box in her lap and felt her eyes drooping as she waited for Ralph Inman to join her. As the former business manager for the B and B, he’d volunteered to help reconcile the income and receipts for the night.

She saw him working his way through lingering visitors toward her, his hands shoved in baggy pants pockets, his worn leather satchel slung over his shoulder as usual. He wore his typical plaid shirt with a chest pocket. He was short and balding and reminded her of Mr. Magoo. Birdie was a jovial lady by nature and loved to watch old cartoons so Emily could name all of the cartoon characters from years past.

As he approached, he looked at her with the same sharp eye he’d used to keep the B and B’s finances in line for the past twenty years, until they’d fallen on hard times. He’d been at Birdie’s for so long he was almost part of the family. Thankfully, he’d decided to retire and enjoy life when the business started tanking and they could no longer pay him.

He sat beside her and yawned. “I forgot how much work it takes to run one of these events.”

She set the cash box on the table. “Then let’s get going on this so we can get you home.”

He nodded, flipped pages in his book and they started reviewing the receipts she’d stored in the cash box. She explained each receipt, and he noted them in the expense column in his ledger. He’d never changed over to computerized bookkeeping, which meant Emily would have to add these details in the computerized system she’d created when she started managing the business.

He asked so many detailed questions that the receipts took over thirty minutes to log and then move on to counting the cash.

Ralph rearranged bills so they all faced the same way. “Want me to drop this in the night deposit on my way home?”

“Sure, that’d be great,” she replied, but her attention was diverted as she noticed the crowd moving rapidly toward the house. They seemed agitated and upset, which was odd.

“What’s going on?” she muttered.

“Fire in the back of the house,” a man in their midst called out.

Emily jerked her head around to see flames shooting from a third-floor window. Her bedroom window! Dark smoke billowed from the nearby bedroom.

Birdie.

Emily was vaguely aware of a scream. A wild, air-rending noise.

Had it come from her?

Maybe. She didn’t care.

She shoved the cash box at Ralph and ran.

All she cared about was getting inside the house to save Birdie.