A Fair to Die For Read online

  Henry said, “Excellent point, and some doctors and pharmacists openly agree with you. The problem is made worse today because misuse of prescription drugs by teens is causing addiction, even deaths. But Edie, terrible problems with drugs once thought beneficial are far from being the only drug problem in the United States.”

  “I know. But I have wondered if my father wasn’t in pharmaceuticals. That doesn’t sound so bad.”

  “Well,” Carrie said, “if he was, then why any need for secrecy?” She immediately wished she’d kept her mouth shut, and looked at Henry in dismay. His returning look was bland, but it included the tiniest hint of a smile.

  “We may never know,” he said. “So, Edie, tell us more about your work, and what growing up in Washington, DC was like.”

  That was that. It was obvious Henry didn’t want to be involved in this cousin-or-not’s quest for the truth about her father, and Carrie wondered whether she did . . . or not.

  Chapter Three

  HERE AND WHERE

  The remainder of the afternoon was spent talking about family news, looking at Carrie’s box of pictures, then moving to the deck so they could enjoy the warm afternoon and hint of fall color. While they were outside, Edie often seemed to fade into her own private world, sitting silently and looking out into the forest.

  Carrie thought she understood that. Visitors from a city were usually enchanted by this close contact with nature. During Edie’s silent periods both Carrie and Henry were also quiet, though Carrie’s mind was busy, wondering what the woman might be thinking. Guests at Blackberry Hollow often commented on their location in the middle of a forest, appreciating the peace they felt, and asking questions about this bird or that tree. Edie, however, kept her thoughts and any questions to herself.

  I kind of like her, Carrie decided. But she never laughs. Smiles only rarely. Does her quest to learn more about her father cause that, or is there some other burden weighing on her? I wish I could cheer her up. I hope she’s enjoying her time here, and our company. At least we’re providing a change of pace for her.

  When the afternoon sun began tingeing everything with gold, Carrie wondered briefly if she should invite Edie to spend the night, then immediately discarded that idea. Instead, she asked “Do you plan to drive back to Tulsa this evening?

  “No, I have a motel reservation in town,” Edie said, “but I would like to take you two to dinner. Any suggestions?

  Henry asked Edie the name of her motel, then suggested a restaurant near there.

  “Before we go,” Carrie said, “let me bring some of my scarves to show you. I think a scarf would look very nice with your outfit, and they’re so easy to pack. I’d love to give you one of mine to remember me by.”

  As they left the restaurant, Carrie said, “Edie, would you enjoy seeing more of this area? We can pick you up at your motel in the morning and give you a tour if you like.”

  “Yes, I would like that. I’m in no rush to move on.”

  “Great. Shall we pick you up at nine?”

  “Make it ten, if you don’t mind,” Edie said. “I wake up slowly, and I need to take care of some e-mail and a phone call to Mom in the morning. I do look forward to seeing the sights in your area, though. Isn’t War Eagle an attraction in this part of Arkansas? I’ve heard of it. Can we go there, or is it too far?”

  “I bet you mean War Eagle Mill, though there are several attractions in the area named War Eagle, including a lovely river and a cave. Nice to learn their reputation has reached the East Coast. They deserve it. We’ll plan on visiting the mill tomorrow. It’s not terribly far from here, thirty miles or so, and we go there several times a year. They sell stone ground flours and grains, and quite a few flour-based mixes. It’s a working mill, begun around 1830’s, and you can watch them at work while you’re there. It’s fun. When the mill is grinding, the whole building rumbles.

  “I’m out of their biscuit mix, so a visit tomorrow would suit me fine. We can have lunch in the Bean Palace Restaurant on the top floor of the mill. Henry and I always enjoy that.”

  “I heard they have an extensive crafts display. Hundreds of crafters there?”

  “No, not unless you mean the War Eagle Craft Fair. It’s held on grounds across the river from the mill in October. War Eagle Mill has its own fair next to the mill at the same time. If it’s crafts you want, you’re lucky. Fall Craft Fair weekend begins next Thursday.”

  “Oh. So we won’t see crafts tomorrow?”

  “They do sell some in the mill’s gift shop, but you’ll have to wait a few more days to see hundreds of crafts around the mill; at the main fair area across the river and, in fact, all over Northwest Arkansas. The War Eagle Fair itself has been increasing in importance every year since it began around sixty years ago. Now it, plus many of the other fairs in Northwest Arkansas, are absolutely huge. Fair weekend here has become a Mecca for crafters, and Henry says the Arkansas Ozarks must sink several inches during craft fair weekends since so many people come to the state. Matter of fact, we have a friend displaying at the War Eagle Fair this year, and I’ll be working there with her.” Carrie paused, glanced at Henry, and said, “Edie, if you plan to be here awhile, would you like to move to our guest bedroom?”

  “Thanks, but no. I’m a pretty independent person.”

  “Okay, I can understand that. So, we’ll pick you up at the motel tomorrow morning.”

  “Good. Ten o’clock. And thank you again for the lovely scarf. I think the rusty fall leaf print goes well with my suit.”

  “Yes, it does, and you are most welcome.” The two women hugged, and, with a wave at Henry, Edie headed toward her rental car.

  “What do you think?” Carrie asked as they drove out of the restaurant parking lot. “I’m in a muddle over all this. What was her main reason for coming here? Was it really to find us, or, more accurately, find me? I’d sure like to think finding me was at least part of her reason, but what’s the rest of the story? Why the great interest in crafts and War Eagle? My usual ability to read people has failed me. She hinted at wanting to ask for our help with something, probably research concerning her father’s business activities and disappearance. Otherwise, why take the time to give us all the background history on drug use?”

  Henry said, “It’s quite possible she did it to soften a negative impact if she eventually told us about whatever her father’s illegal dealings might have been—assuming they were illegal.”

  “Well, it fits. When she learned about you, and our adventures together, I think it fed an interest in asking for our help in some way. Henry, what on earth does she believe we could contribute? All we know about Mexico and drugs comes from the horrible stories we read in the newspapers. Things have undoubtedly changed a lot there since her father disappeared. Surely she must be aware of that.”

  Henry started the car and backed out of their parking place before he said, “Your ability to read people hasn’t failed at all. I’d assess things, if that doesn’t sound too cold, just as you say. Let’s assume this Cousin Edie, maybe mostly because of a request from her mother, really did come here to find you. And, when she succeeded, somehow the story of our activities fed into her quest to learn the story behind her father’s disappearance, and possibly other things beyond that. Maybe I stopped our learning more by shutting off the discussion about her father and drugs, but the whole issue makes me feel squinchy, as you would put it. Cara, I don’t want us involved in this at all. We can keep Edie as a pleasant acquaintance and maybe a real cousin, but we’ll stay out of the problems she is, unfortunately, involving herself in.”

  Remembering what Edie had said about her mother caused Carrie to hesitate. “I do like her, though, and maybe it’s not as bad as we suspect. She said she wants to provide closure for her mother. Maybe there’s some fairly simple way to find out where and how her father died. After all, he was an American citizen.”

  “Okay, Carrie, I like her too, she’s an intelligent, pleasant woman, though perhaps a bi
t too serious, which is probably understandable, given her circumstances. I sympathize with your compassion for her. It’s admirable. However, if she asks for help related to her father’s disappearance, we must say no.

  “Here’s a question. If finding out what happened to her father is going to be simple, why wasn’t it done years ago?”

  She was silent for a couple of minutes, then said, “You’re right, and I realize whatever is behind her story could be scary. It undoubtedly goes way beyond one man’s business activities.”

  “Yes, exactly, and that’s another good reason to avoid involvement. I don’t want you to worry about it, or feel you’re letting her down, but the fact you may be related to this woman shouldn’t change the need to act wisely. We could so easily get in way over our heads.

  “There’s something else I’ve been wondering,” he said. “Why now? What really brought Edie here now? She’s been retired for several years, and her father has been missing much longer than that. Why come to look you up now?”

  “I hadn’t thought of that, but I see what you mean, though I really wish it had only been to find me, a long-lost cousin.” She sighed. “Of course you’re right about staying out of Edie’s problems. We can be sympathetic, but cautious. Maybe nothing more about her quest will come up. She has to be aware you discouraged any approach to us for whatever help she imagines we might give. And, so far, she hasn’t really proved she’s my cousin, has she? I suppose she could have learned some of the family information she shared elsewhere?”

  “Yes. With the Internet, exposure of too much personal information is often possible.”

  “I know, I know, but I wish . . .” She sighed. “Oh well, maybe tomorrow will bring more certainty.” She took out her cell phone. “Speaking of information, I’m going to call Irene and thank her for guiding Edie to us. I know her well enough to guess she’s probably agonizing about whether or not she did the right thing by giving Edie our number.”

  Henry, paying attention to driving, only half listened to what was obviously pleasant female chit-chat for a few minutes. Then Carrie’s sharp question grabbed his interest.

  “You didn’t? Not at all? Well, that is interesting. Must be some mix-up on her part.

  “Oh, yes, that’s probably what happened. I know you can get a surprising amount of information from the Internet.

  “Yes, okay. It might be interesting to learn that. Call me if you find out anything, but don’t go to any special bother.

  “Now, tell me more about your new granddaughter.”

  Sounds like, however she got Carrie’s contact information, Cousin Edie didn’t get it from Irene at the library. Hmm. Then, why did she tell us that? Surely she was aware Carrie might talk to her friend eventually, and find out. Whatever—it adds up to one more reason for staying away from this whole situation. I sure hope Carrie is being honest with me and feels all right about avoiding involvement. If they’d been in touch over the years it might be different, but, after all, they barely know each other. Blood relationship doesn’t matter.

  I hope.

  As soon as her conversation was over, Carrie told Henry just what he’d already suspected.

  “Irene says she hasn’t helped anyone learn my location or phone number. Not a cousin of mine, not anyone, not ever. Besides that, yesterday was her day off.

  “She says Edie must have talked to someone else in the library who knows I used to work there. That someone probably helped with the Internet search. She’s going to ask around tomorrow to see if another library assistant remembers talking to Edie.”

  “Interesting.”

  “Sure is.”

  First thing the following morning Carrie did a computer search for information about herself. After some fumbling she discovered multiple listings, many of them connected to her work for several high-profile volunteer organizations. She learned, not only her address and phone number, but her birth date and age. Oh, for heaven’s sake, what’s happened to privacy?

  Bother!

  “I still haven’t been able to figure out why Edie would lie about talking to my friend at the library,” she said to Henry as they got in the car for the drive to Edie’s motel. I can’t see any reason for her to make up a story like that, can you?”

  “Nope. Maybe she’s an habitual liar. Some people lie almost without thinking.”

  “Ahh, maybe so, but why this particular lie? I don’t see any need for it.”

  “Because she didn’t want to reveal how she really found information about you.”

  ‘Oh gosh. I’m feeling squinchy again. Henry, this gets curiouser and curiouser.”

  “Uh-huh. Well, we know enough to be cautious, but that doesn’t mean we won’t have a good time today. We always enjoy going to War Eagle Mill, and we both love that bowl of beans with cornbread in their restaurant. Let’s stop at Hobbs State Park first, since it’s just down the road. If Cousin Edie is game, we can do a bit of hiking there. That ought to work up a good appetite for lunch.”

  “Great idea. Now I really am looking forward to today. Oh, slow down, I see the motel sign over there.” She pointed. “Just pull up at the door; Edie’s probably waiting in the lobby. I’ll run in and get her.”

  In a minute she was back. “Better park. She isn’t down yet. I’ll sit in the lobby and wait. If she doesn’t show up in a few minutes I’ll ask them to phone her room. That’ll give her a little hurry-up shove.” She smiled at him, blew a kiss, and disappeared through the automatic doors.

  It was several minutes before she appeared again, frowning this time. She slid in the car beside him and sat silently for so long he asked, “What?”

  “She didn’t stay there.”

  He stared at her. “Are you sure? This is the name and location she gave us. You wrote it down.”

  “They say she cancelled her reservation late last evening, so it’s the right place—or was. I decided to call her room at 10:15 because I considered that too late for politeness. That’s when they told me at the desk she hadn’t stayed in this motel, though the clerk admitted she’d had a reservation here. When I questioned him a bit too strenuously, he called the manager, and she confirmed what he’d said. Henry, what is going on? Should I go back in, show them the picture of Edie on my phone, and make sure they know what they’re talking about?”

  “It will be a different clerk on duty this morning. Besides, if you took the phone in to show a photo, it could cause more stir than we want. For some reason the woman decided to change motels or leave altogether. There’s nothing we can do about it.”

  “Henry, what’s up with her? We were home last night, and I told her we were early risers. Why didn’t she call to explain, or to say goodbye?”

  “I’m sorry, Little Love. It’s hard not to be angry that she did this to you.”

  “I’m not angry, I’m worried. Just to go away without any . . . any goodbye, well, I’d never do that.”

  “I know.”

  “Henry, do you think she left because she figured we weren’t going to be any help in finding out what happened to her father? Is that the only reason she came to see me?”

  “She didn’t seem to know you’d re-married. I assume she didn’t know about our adventures before you told her about them.”

  “Maybe, maybe not. There’s the Internet, remember? So, now what? I guess we should drive around the parking area to be sure her car isn’t here.”

  “Okay.” He said nothing more as they drove around all four sides of the motel and pulled up in front again.

  “No tan Ford.”

  “Nope.”

  After a long silence, Carrie said, “Then that’s that. Goodbye, Cousin Edie, it was nice knowing you.”

  He put his hand on her knee briefly and said, “Well, we’re half-way there, so let’s head for War Eagle Mill to get our biscuit mix and whatever else we need. Then, since it’s a beautiful day, shall we go on to Hobbs Park and walk the Ozarks Plateau trail, maybe sit on one of the benches a while and enjoy the
fall scenery?”

  Her smile wavered as she said, “I’d like that. Hobbs is such a beautiful place. Too bad we couldn’t show it to Edie, but it’s just what I need right now.”

  Chapter Four

  PREPARING FOR THE FAIR

  On the following Monday morning, Carrie said, “You’ll have a good time.”

  Henry turned away from the door to the garage, pursed his lips for a minute, then said, “Doubtful. A whole day in grade school classes? Dozens of kids staring at me? I haven’t a clue what they expect.”

  “They expect a big, strong, handsome man who’s going to tell them what it’s like to be a cop—the good parts, at least. What you’re going to say sounds great. They’ll love it, especially the first-person experiences you’ll be telling them.You’ve got your notes. You’ve practiced. Once you get started you’ll forget about being anxious and really will have a good time.”

  “I don’t know . . . I want it to be right, and things have changed some since I was a working law officer.”

  As he reached for the door handle again she said, “Phooey. Remember how you said you loved hearing your grandpa’s stories from years past?” She swatted him on the rear and continued, “Go be Grandpa.”

  They both laughed. Then he was gone, and Carrie went to get the gift he had just given her, The Grass Valley Bistro Cookbook, by John Bohnert. She wanted to fix a really special supper for his return, and was counting on a recipe from the chef’s book to help her out. Lunch in a grade school cafeteria probably wasn’t designed for large males who were spending all that energy telling young kids about police work. Henry would be ready for a super-terrific supper. She was depending on Chef John to provide that.