A Fair to Die For Read online

  He pulled in a space, and sat still for a few moments, wondering whether he should wait to see what the men did, or go inside and look for Edie. When they made no move to leave their car, he decided they might be waiting for Edie to come out, so he left the truck and followed a sidewalk to the large, rustic building. Though the display and activity areas covered a lot of territory, it didn’t take him long to tour all of them and decide Edie wasn’t there. He even asked a woman coming from the restroom if his wife was inside. No, no one but the woman had been in there.

  The Ozark Plateau Trail and picnic area were the only remaining options easily accessible from the visitor center. He hurried out the building’s side door and started along the paved part of the trail. Most of the deciduous trees still held their colored fall leaves, and, though the pine trees were tall, with needles high off the ground, seeing through the forest for any distance was still difficult. There were several walkers enjoying the warm temperatures and sunny skies. Too bad he and Carrie weren’t also enjoying this lovely day together.

  All the benches he passed on the paved part of the trail were empty, but, on a bench at the end of a gravel side path he thought he saw movement through the trees, and paused to look more carefully. Finally he took a few cautious steps along the path. Yes, two people, deep in conversation. He wondered if what they were talking about was absorbing all their attention. If so, they evidently weren’t afraid of anyone coming up on them unexpectedly.

  The woman had to be Edie. Smallish, beige hair, beige slacks and sweater. She’d taken the wig off. It was probably in that tote beside her. And, who was the guy? Could this be Milton Sales? He had a ball cap on, and the hair showing in back was brown sprinkled with grey, instead of the light brown Carrie described. Didn’t matter. Sales, like Edie, could own a wig. However, having that kind of thing at hand did indicate the man anticipated a need to disguise his looks at times. Curious.

  Well, he was going to find out who Edie’s companion was.

  Henry tried to walk quietly as he drew closer to the bench, but finally the crunch of his feet on gravel alerted her. She stood, and turned to see who was coming. The man stayed seated and did not look around.

  “Hello, Edie,” Henry said.

  Chapter Twelve

  A PASSIONATE DISGUISE

  For a moment she said nothing. Then she began “I . . . ,” glanced at her companion, and stopped.

  Henry didn’t speak either, just stared at her for a minute before shifting his gaze to the man seated on the bench, who had turned sideways. Then he looked back at Edie.

  “Yes?” he said, finally.

  “How did you find me?”

  “Logic.”

  “I see.”

  Henry waited, watching her think her remarks into position, wondering what would come next.

  “I stopped for breakfast next to the Interstate, and ran into an old friend from DC who’s heading to Texas to visit his . . . daughter. I wanted to see this park, and the fast-food place was noisy and crowded, so I suggested we come here to continue our conversation. Obviously I lost track of time. I shouldn’t have left Shirley and Carrie to handle sales alone, and I’m going to the fair right now. Tony has decided to stay over in this area, so he and I can get together again tomorrow.”

  Tony? Really? Other than the grey hair color, this man looks a heck of a lot like Milton Sales as Carrie described him. I guess Edie’s afraid I’ll report him to the sheriff, and the first name she came up with is from the novel by Tony Hillerman on the table by my reading chair. What will she do when she realizes where she grabbed the name?

  “Henry King, this is Tony . . . Hillman.”

  There was a moment of awkward silence before “Tony” stood, glanced at Henry, said a muffled “Pleased to meet you,” then faced Edie. “I’ve got to get going, find a place to stay. See you Monday. Call me on my cell.”

  At that, Milton/Tony bolted off the trail and down through the hollow. He headed west—maybe in the direction of the parking lot—leaving Henry feeling helpless, muddled, and angry as he watched the man who was probably a drug dealer disappear among the trees and underbrush.

  But, what had his options been? He couldn’t have forced him to stay. He had no authority, no proof of any criminal activity, though he knew several people in the county sheriff’s office were very interested in talking with Milton Sales. Would asking the man to stay and answer a few questions have done any good? Probably not, but why hadn’t he spoken up, challenging Edie’s lies?

  Too late now. Years past, as a police officer, he could have forced the issue. But not today. He hadn’t a clue whether or not Sales was armed. Except in extreme circumstances, he didn’t carry a gun himself and wouldn’t use it here, anyway.

  Henry turned toward the woman who had put him in this mess. “Cut the bull, Edie. That was Milton Sales, wasn’t it? The man you have barely met, right? The man who made toys stuffed with some substance that mimics illegal drugs?”

  “Milton didn’t make those toys. He doesn’t make anything like them, and he says his counter shelf was empty after he packed up to move out yesterday. The four hollow pieces were put there later. Ask Carrie to think back over what she saw in his booth. Was there anything that looked like those four? He said proof would be that he signs all his pieces. Were those animals signed? I didn’t get a good look at them so don’t know, but if they were signed, the signature was forged.”

  “I didn’t see a signature. So, why did he leave the fair?”

  “Well, I . . . don’t know.”

  “Edie, tell me the truth or I’m walking out right now. But first, in fairness, I should tell you there are two men sitting in a dark blue car in the parking lot. They undoubtedly ID’d your rental car. There’s no way you can get to that car without walking by them. If they know who Milton Sales is, they may grab him, too.”

  He saw the troubled look on her face before she turned her back on him. In a minute, still facing the woods, she said. “I don’t think they know what Milton looks like, but still, they could ruin everything.”

  “Ruin what?”

  “Henry, can I trust you? Really trust you? I’d have to break all kinds of rules to say anything to you at all.”

  “Edie, I was a cop for thirty-five years. In my time I handled a lot of secrets that no one will ever hear from me, even now.

  “Could those secrets put you in danger—if anyone knew, I mean?”

  “Some. Possibly.”

  After a silence, she said, “Well, what I’m going to tell you now could, too. You ever hear of the Bureau of Drug Abuse Control?”

  He drew it out of the past. “Formed under the old Department of Health, Education, and Welfare in the mid sixties. Put under HEW because, back then, drug use was considered more of a medical problem than one belonging to law enforcement, as you confirmed when you were going through the history of drug use at our home. That Bureau didn’t last long, though.”

  “Right. It didn’t. Things were changing rapidly back then. Did Kansas City ever deal with drug abuse by truckers?”

  “Wasn’t my department, but I heard something about it. Mainly amphetamines and barbiturates, right? I think several were caught distributing. I can see how the easy opportunity to distribute would prove a temptation to some.”

  “Yes. Narcotics officers were sent undercover in the trucking community to weed out offenders.”

  “Uh-huh. As I recall, KCPD dealt with a few of those officers. Some turned out to be of questionable integrity themselves, though Kansas City didn’t get involved in proving that. Also, back then, misuse of dangerous drugs was growing so rapidly that I’m sure lawmakers’ constituents felt things were getting out of hand. Something new had to be tried. Eventual result, the Drug Enforcement Administration.”

  “Yes. My father was one of the undercover narcotics officers said to be of questionable integrity, though that was never confirmed before he disappeared. After? He was gone, but the smudge against his name remained.”
/>
  “Ahh, you know much more than you told us. And how did you learn it?”

  She turned to face him again. “Because I’m part of the system, Henry. I worked as an administrative assistant in the Department of Justice. I didn’t lie when I said I was retired, or that I did research and wrote speeches for people in government, but the job I held most recently, and for many years, was with the Drug Enforcement Administration, an arm of DOJ since 1973. I retired from that job three years ago, but recently I’ve been doing a bit of work as a confidential source for them, mainly because—having acquired the status of senior citizen—I don’t look like an agent.”

  Henry knew laughing wasn’t at all appropriate but he laughed anyway. “You mean like Emily Polifax in the novels by Dorothy Gilman? Carrie loves those, and I’ve enjoyed listening to a couple of them as recorded books when we’re in the car.”

  “Yes, pretty much like that, except I don’t work for the CIA.” Now she smiled too, but the smile disappeared a couple of seconds later.

  “Henry, I see those two guys. ”

  This time his brain clicked into action immediately. “I guess they got tired of waiting for you. Have they seen you yet?”

  “I don’t think so, they just turned onto one of the sections of trail running parallel to this about fifty yards away. Your body is shielding me from their view.”

  “Put on your wig quickly, and don’t be surprised at what I do.”

  As soon as the dark curls were in place, he took her in his arms.

  Murmuring into the prickly curls, he said, “Tell me now why they’re looking for you and who they are.”

  “I don’t know, I—don’t—know.”

  She lifted her face and he bent his head as if he were kissing her. Would this pose seem plausible to those men? After all, he and Edie didn’t exactly fit the image of young lovers using a private place for a quick interlude. But, maybe with that wig . . . and Edie’s face was hidden against his chest now. Older man, young bimbo?

  He heard their shoes crunching on the gravel behind him, and still keeping his body between them and Edie, he turned to look over his shoulder, following the look with a growled “This area is taken guys, buzz off.”

  “You seen a woman with dyed blond hair around here?”

  “Nope, haven’t seen or heard anyone but me and Phyllis. Like I said, buzz off. Go find your blond somewhere else.” He moved away from Edie a couple of inches, took one arm from her back, and gave his pants an obvious tug, as if settling them in a more convenient location. While he was doing this, she managed to unfasten the beige slacks and let them drop around her feet. She uttered an exaggerated gasp as they fell, and, without thinking, he bent his knees slightly, preparing to retrieve them for her.

  It took only a second for him to realize she had entered into the charade, had meant for the slacks to fall, and his responding movement only added to the reality of their pretend activities. Oh, crap.

  Edie lifted her arms from his waist to around his neck, pulled his head down, and the kiss he had pretended became real.

  He wanted more than anything to jerk his head back, but stayed where he was as heavy footsteps crunching gravel came closer. Then the second man said, “We’re only half way around this trail, come on, let lover boy alone. We’re wasting time. She’s probably up ahead.”

  As soon as he heard that, Henry turned his head to break the kiss, but held the rest of the pose for several minutes, occasionally moving as if to touch or caress, while thinking the responding moves by Edie were more personal than necessary.

  Then, at last, the footsteps faded away.

  His reaction to the appearance of the two men, and the desire to protect this woman by acting out a scene he had played as a disguise in years past, had been automatic. But now he felt only disgust with himself, and, as soon as he thought it was safe, he pulled completely away from her.

  “Leave that wig on while we go to my car. If there is any evidence those two guys are around there, we’ll have to leave yours in the lot.”

  “Yes.” She re-fastened her slacks, then put her arm around his waist as they walked along the path. Knowing it was safest, he rested his own arm on her shoulders.

  “Are you going to tell Carrie about the scene we just played?”

  He kept moving along the path with her, but let his words express the distaste he felt. “What I discuss with my wife is none of your business, and right now I am feeling only regret for that scene, necessary though it may have been. Assuming what you had begun to tell me was the truth, it was important to protect you, but only because we don’t know who those men are. At the moment a romantic charade seemed our only option. I’ve used it once or twice in years past with success.”

  “I’m sorry, Henry. It was stupid of me to meet Milton here. I suggest you think of what happened back there as something you did only in the line of duty. Then forget it.”

  “You still haven’t told me what part Milton Sales plays in all this. The rest of the story?”

  “Later. For now, we’ll forget what just happened.”

  “You know that’s not in the cards. Carrie, Shirley, and I agreed I needed to look for you, and they know I was looking here at Hobbs. Whatever I do, I am not lying to my wife.”

  “Your choice, Henry, your choice. I say you found me here with Milton. The men came. We hid in the trees until the men left. That’s enough to explain. Then forget it.”

  Sure, he thought, then quickly switched to planning options if the men showed up again.

  As soon as the parking lot was in view he said, “The dark blue car is still in the lot but, since it’s empty, I suggest you go to your car immediately. Drive out. I’ll wait a few minutes to be sure they don’t show up and follow you. Got your cell phone?”

  “Yes, in my purse.”

  “Turn it on and lay it on the seat. If you don’t hear from me, it’s clear and you can go straight to the fair. If they follow you, I’ll phone a warning. In that case, continue down the highway into town. Go to the Harps Grocery located on the corner where you turned to come to War Eagle. Park in an open area, walk inside, always being sure people in the lot can see you clearly. Take a cart, and head for the produce section. Stay in that section, maybe picking up one or two things as you browse. It’s nice and open there, with a view to the deli and bakery. People will be around. Wait in that area until I come.”

  She nodded, and hurried toward her car.

  He headed across the parking lot, wondering if the love scene and her overly warm response was something Edith Embler really planned to forget. He didn’t want to hurt Carrie, but if he didn’t tell her how he had protected her cousin . . . well, would Edie spill the beans? She might even threaten to tell Carrie later, especially if the two of them didn’t continue helping her with the resolution of whatever was going on here. And that would be blackmail.

  Nuts! He was probably making too much of this. As soon as he and Carrie were alone, he’d just share the straightforward facts, how he hadn’t had an option. Carrie would understand, in fact, since she was more interested in aiding her cousin than he was, she’d probably approve.

  But, Edie? Whatever degree of truth she’d told him, whatever her job was, he still didn’t trust her. A confidential source for DEA? Well, maybe, but in his experience, such people were sometimes so used to manipulating facts while working to achieve a goal that it was hard for them to tell full truth about anything.

  After he got in his truck he sat without moving, watching Edie drive out of the lot and turn west. He wished, oh how he wished she’d turned east and headed out of their lives.

  No sign of the men. Time to go back to Carrie and Shirley. Time to protect his wife from this woman’s self-focused quest, but first . . .

  He dialed Carrie’s cell phone. “Found her. She’s on her way back to you. She probably won’t say anything by way of an excuse, but if she does, don’t believe a word she says until I get there. Everything okay? Good. Love you, too.”
/>   He turned the key, listened to the motor catch, and wondered if there was any way he could keep the events at Hobbs from either haunting him, or causing hurt.

  If he told all, would Carrie really understand? Women, including his Cara, could sure be unpredictable.

  Then another unsettling thought startled him, and he pulled his hands away from the steering wheel.

  Was there lipstick on his shirt?

  Chapter Thirteen

  FOLLOWING IN HER FATHER’S FOOTSTEPS

  Being caught with lipstick on a shirt sounded like a joke, but those jokes must have some basis. Obviously men had been caught when wives or girlfriends found an unfamiliar lipstick smear on their clothing. He couldn’t see enough in the little rear vision mirror to be sure he was unsmudged, therefore it would be best to take time for a trip to the Men’s, just in case. A lipstick smear was no way to introduce the interlude with Edie to his wife.

  He slammed the truck door and hurried toward the building.

  Yes! A good mirror. He was completing his inspection of a totally clean shirt when the door opened and the two men in dark suits came in, exchanging looks when they saw him. They were way too close before he had time to move.

  “Well now,” the largest one said, coming to stand on his left, “Get finished with your playtime?”

  Henry’s response was a low, growling hum.

  The other man stood on his right. “Y’know, Arnie, this is a public park. A very public park. Odd place for such private activities.”

  Both men moved even closer until they were pushing at him from either side. Henry contemplated his options. Probably better to stand still and find out what was going to shake out here. Besides, they outdid him in muscle, and didn’t look more than forty. And, from what Carrie had said, he assumed both of them were armed.