A Fair to Die For Read online

  “That’s when I remembered a wooden book rack Daddy had on his desk at home. It’s beautifully made from three colors of wood. I wondered if Milton made it for him. He did. It was signed on the bottom.”

  So, Carrie thought, finding Milton Sales, not finding a cousin, is the reason Edie came here. She bit her lip to keep from saying anything she might regret, and hoped Henry would fill the conversation gap.

  He did. “You’ve known much more about this area than you admitted.” The steel was in evidence now.

  Again there was silence before Edie responded. “Yes.”

  Carrie stopped biting her lip. “You used me, used us. You lied to us,” she said, not sure whether disappointment or anger was causing tears to spill down her cheeks.

  I never used to cry when I was married to Amos. I didn’t cry when I lived alone. Now, people would probably say I had PMS or was headed into menopause. But, no excuses there. All that stuff was finished long ago.

  Then, why the tears now? Why?

  Could being in a loving partnership with Henry have something to do with this? She stared at the ceiling, distracted, not by her cousin’s duplicity, but by an awakening realization. For the first time, someone loves me fully, just as me. Not as a mom, not as a daughter, he loves me just because I’m me.

  Did my parents love me? Yes, I know they did, but they weren’t demonstrative. And I think, as teachers, they sometimes saw me as an experiment in child rearing.

  Amos? Well, of course, our marriage was a business arrangement. He needed a presentable, intelligent wife and hostess, and I wanted my own home and a child. We each got what we bargained for.

  But now? Her tears began flowing more freely, if still silently.

  Now there is Henry, and our beautiful, incredible, shared love.

  Satisfied, and a bit overwhelmed by her thoughts, she sat in silence, and when Edie finally said “Yes, I did,” it took her a minute to remember what her cousin was responding to.

  Henry said, “No one likes being used. You’re smart enough to understand that. I suppose you knew more about War Eagle than you let on. A simple Internet search?

  “Yes”

  And finding out about Carrie? The same? You lied about the library?”

  “Yes.” When Carrie finally looked up at her cousin, tears were streaming down her cheeks, too.

  Edie pulled a tissue from her pocket and blew her nose, covering Carrie’s own mop and blow. The two women stared at each other, then, suddenly, both of them began laughing.

  “What a mess, huh?” Carrie said, when she could get the words out, and Edie nodded, retrieving another tissue to wipe her eyes.

  Henry stared from one to the other, then said, “I don’t see what’s funny about any of this.”

  Carrie said, “Nothing, but our duplicate reaction is. Never mind, love, it isn’t something that needs to be understood. Put it down to one of those mysterious female things. Please continue.”

  Henry shook his head, and, briefly, smiled at her. But in a second the steel re-appeared, and he asked “What about Carrie? May I assume you really are her cousin?”

  “That part is true.”

  “So—you came to Arkansas to find Milton Sales.”

  “The woman who remembered he was moving to Arkansas also remembered the name War Eagle, and you’re right. A simple Internet search, and I had the information I needed. Mother truly was eager to have me look you up, Carrie, but in a sense, I did use you. The fact you live so close to War Eagle Mill was fortuitous. But, don’t you see, I didn’t have to look you up to locate Milton Sales? I ended up finding the mill and War Eagle Craft Fair on my own. Of course I didn’t know if Sales would be at the fair, but you couldn’t have helped me with that anyway.”

  “Okay,” Henry said. “Now, what about those two men who’re looking for you? What’s that all about?”

  “I haven’t a clue, but they frighten me. If my father really was doing something illegal, maybe they think I know about it and can give them information. Well, so far, I can’t. Or maybe they know all about Daddy’s activities and want it kept quiet, or . . . well, I don’t know. Like I say, it’s frightening. And I certainly want to know more about them before I meet them face-to-face.” She paused for a moment before she said, “I’m wondering if they really are from the FBI.”

  Carrie said, “The one who called himself Arnie Frost flashed a badge, but that’s exactly what he did, flashed it. I couldn’t tell you now if it was really from the FBI. I should have looked more closely.”

  “People don’t,” Edie said. “I was pretty sure I could get away with using a false name, even if motel clerks asked to see photo identification. E. D. Fingler was one name I used. I hoped it was enough change, and anyone searching for me wouldn’t notice. If it sounded like a man, so much the better. I only stayed at each motel one night, just in case. I also changed rental cars, as you saw.”

  Henry said, “And Milton Sales? What about him?”

  “Of course it was a gamble that he was still using that name, and that he’d be at the fair. When you get there they give you a book that includes the names of exhibitors, what they make, and their booth location. He was listed. After that it was easy.”

  “Did he talk to you?” Carrie asked.

  “I think he would have, but that’s where my luck ran out. I told him who I was, and said I hoped to learn more about my father’s disappearance so my mother could find peace in her old age. I did kind of dramatize that part. I asked if we could talk after the close of the fair that day, or at some other time convenient to him. He said he had his RV parked on the grounds and would meet me there around 1:00 when he went to get his lunch. He had just begun to describe the RV when I saw you. I didn’t want you to complicate things or scare Sales off, so I got away as quickly as I could. When I went to the RV at 1:00 no one answered my knocks. I went back several times, but he never answered the door. I only checked his booth once after that. He wasn’t there, but I didn’t return. I didn’t want to risk being seen there again.”

  Carrie nodded, and said, “I talked to the man briefly after you disappeared, Edie, but he didn’t acknowledge knowing who you were when I asked. I guess it’s possible my question spooked him, though I thought I mentioned you quite casually while I was buying something from his display. I saw him leave for the RV not long after. I did check at his display a couple of times this afternoon, but he wasn’t there. According to his neighbor, he came and went the rest of the day, but that was standard procedure. The man said he was always restless.”

  She turned to her husband. “Henry, is there any way we can verify that those guys looking for Edie were really from the FBI? I know you don’t want to rock any boats, but it would sure be helpful if we knew.”

  “I’ll call Ray in the morning, but I won’t press him to do an extensive search.”

  Carrie explained, “That’s a friend of his, a deputy police chief in Kansas City.”

  Edie nodded, then yawned. “Excuse me. I haven’t been sleeping too well these last few nights.”

  “You go on to bed. We’ll make plans in the morning. I’m heading for bed myself. It was a long day at the fair.”

  Henry got up too. “One more thing, Edie. I think we should put your car in the garage and leave my truck in the driveway. That’s in case anyone gets curious about a strange car here.”

  When he came in the bedroom, Carrie went to the hall and locked the door separating their area from the rest of the house. That also blocked Edie’s access to the garage, but, with Henry’s truck parked behind her car, if she ran away this time, it would be on foot.

  Henry noticed what she was doing, but said nothing as he took her in his arms for a very comforting hug. Relaxing into his warmth reminded her of the first hug they’d shared.

  They’d barely known each other back then. He’d come to her door, knowing that, minutes earlier, she’d discovered her best friend’s body in the woods. He said only “You found her,” and held out his arms.
She’d gone to him, and—for the first time in adult memory—Carrie Culpeper McCrite had cried, making big wet spots on the front of Henry’s jacket.

  But now, nearly two years later, she didn’t cry. She shut her eyes and smiled.

  The bedroom phone rang at 4:15.

  It was on Carrie’s side of the bed, and she’d never lost the concerned mother’s ability to respond quickly to nighttime phone calls, so she said a clear and wide-awake sounding “Hello.”

  “Carrie,” Jason said, “I’m sorry to bother you so early, but Patricia phoned us awhile ago and told us Randy had been in a car crash when he was driving home from work.”

  “Oh, Jason! How is he?”

  “He’s in intensive care and, at last report, things were looking better. Broken bones and head injuries, but air bags undoubtedly saved his life. They weren’t yet sure about internal damage when Patricia called again about an hour ago.” Jason’s voice broke, as he said, “A van full of sixteen-year-old kids was speeding, ran a stop sign on a blind side street, and smashed into the driver’s side of Randy’s car. The driver of the van was killed right there. All the other kids ended up in the hospital with various injuries from being thrown around inside the van, since no one was wearing a seat belt. The boy driving went through the windshield and clear over Randy’s car. The girl who was sitting next to him is . . . well, we don’t know.” Jason’s voice broke again, and he stopped talking.

  In the silence Carrie said, “My prayers for all of you have already begun, Jason. Remember, God’s love and care are with you right this minute—your daughter and son-in-law, you and Eleanor—those kids, everyone. You are not bearing this alone.”

  “Yes . . . yes. Thanks for reminding me.”

  “Now then, what practical help do you need? We’re here to take care of it. I assume you’re going to Ohio to be with Patricia and Randy and their twins?”

  “Yes, we’re getting ready to leave for the airport now. If you . . . well, there’s the craft fair and all. We’ll need to close the shop. Could you put a ‘family emergency’ sign on the shop door, and maybe Henry will take Eleanor’s place at the fair?”

  Carrie’s mind was hurrying through options. Edie? Well, why not? She couldn’t cause Shirley any problems, and she would probably welcome a chance to put on her disguise and work anonymously at the fair.

  “Jason, you needn’t worry. We have a houseguest right now who’ll be able to take Eleanor’s place. We’ll get it all worked out, and only close ‘Eleanor’s Flower Garden’ if we have to. You can forget about things here and give all your support to Patricia and Randy.”

  Jason sighed and took a shaky breath. “We’re trying to think of everything, but I’m sure we won’t succeed. We will be in touch to let you know how Randy is doing.

  “Oh. Eleanor says she has no big events scheduled until next month, but you’ll probably need to give live plants in the flower shop some care, and throw away any cut flowers that don’t make it. We don’t know how long we’ll be gone, but, well, just keep praying.”

  “I will, and we’ll take care of whatever needs doing at the shop and your house. Henry or I will check the house daily, and pick up your mail and newspaper.”

  “No need. I’m taking contact numbers with me. I’ll phone from the airport to stop the newspaper. As for the mail, I can access USPS on line or call the post office.”

  “For now, Jason, let us pick up the mail. We drive by your house almost every day anyway. Easy to check the mailbox. That way, if something looks like it needs attention, we can tell you or forward it to you.”

  “Oh, Carrie, thank you, thank you both.”

  “Don’t worry about anything here. And please call us when you can.”

  “I will. Yes. Well now, thank you again. We’ll be in touch.”

  Her soft words, “Love to all of you” were swallowed up in a dial tone.

  Chapter Eight

  TOO MANY CHALLENGES

  As soon as Jason hung up, Carrie’s thoughts turned to a favorite Bible passage that often carried her into productive prayer. The 91st Psalm—solace for soldiers in battle and people in any difficulty—guided her now.

  He shall give his angels charge over thee, to keep thee in all thy ways. They shall bear thee up in their hands . . .

  Henry cleared his throat.

  Carrie turned to see that he was sitting up in bed and, from the worried look on his face, had heard enough to understand there was bad news. He reached his hand out to take hers, and said, “What’s happened?”

  She told him. After a contemplative silence, he said, “All right, we’ll carry on as you promised, of course we will. But what do you really think about taking Edie with you to fill in at the craft fair? I could still take her to the flower shop and keep an eye on her. Can you not get along without her?”

  “I suppose we could, but, in truth, Shirley’s work takes some explaining, and people want to talk about it anyway.” She mimicked various voices, “‘Will this stand up in the washing machine? Can you put it in the dryer? Will it wrinkle? Do you have it in yellow? Can I order three trucks, one each in red, white, and blue? Is there a discount if I buy more than one?’ That sort of thing goes on all day, as well as making sales, wrapping, straightening, and re-stocking. The three of us were kept hopping and, of course, each of us has to eat and take a break now and then.”

  “Ah, I see. But, I admit I’m still uneasy about her motives—her reasons for being here. I even wonder if she brings some kind of danger to you.”

  “I don’t see how.”

  “Simply the association, if nothing else. We still don’t know what we’re dealing with. These days a lot of innocent people are put in danger simply because a single person is the intended target. What if her father’s business had some connection to Mexican drug cartels?”

  “Henry, he died around forty years ago.”

  “Yes, as far as we know, he did. Carrie, my love, if he was involved in the drug business . . . well, the drug business all over Central and South America was dangerous back then, too.”

  She bowed her head, and thought, Please, I need help sorting all this out and knowing the right thing to do.

  He continued, “There’s always a chance the two dark suits will look for her at the fair.”

  “But, how would they know to look there?”

  “That’s just it. We don’t know why they’re looking for her, what they know, or how they learned it. I can’t call Ray this early, but will as soon as he’s at the station. My hope is that he can at least tell us if Agent Arnie and his companion are really from the FBI.”

  “We have to be in Shirley’s booth at the fair before 8:00.”

  “I know.”

  They were silent for a couple of minutes, then Henry said, “I’ll shave and get dressed while you call Shirley. It’s already five o’clock. They’ll be up.”

  Shirley received Jason and Eleanor’s news with practically laced sympathy. “Well, we were all mighty sad for them when Gertrude passed, but it’s good they haven’t adopted a new dog yet. We’d have to bring the animal down here, and, if it didn’t get along with our dogs and know how to behave around cows, it would have to go to a kennel.”

  “Oh, yes, I hadn’t thought of that.”

  They were both quiet for a moment, as if showing respect to the Stack’s long-time pet. Then Carrie said, “You know, Henry and I still miss FatCat.”

  “Uh-huh. You gonna get a new cat?”

  “Not unless we can find one just like FatCat.”

  Shirley said “You think so?” then changed the subject. “I’m glad your cousin’s showed up, but it seems to me if she doesn’t want to come to the fair, we can get along without either her or Henry today. It’ll keep us hoppin’ but we can do it. Henry needs to stay behind and mind Eleanor’s shop. Besides he’s got to be available so he can pass news from up north along to us. Saturday will probably be the biggest day for crowds and, need be, I can ask Junior if he thinks it would be okay fo
r me to invite the Tummelton gal to help us out then. The boy will be with his daddy’s parents this weekend, so she’ll not be tied down beyond house chores and mebee grading papers or some other teacher job.”

  “Okay then. I’ll pick you up at 6:30, with or without Cousin Edie.”

  Stuffed with oatmeal, bacon, and toast, Edie readily agreed to work at the fair. Carrie noticed she didn’t show any particular emotion when the plan was proposed to her, even though it would obviously give her a second opportunity to connect with Milton Sales under the guise of an exhibitor’s assistant.

  She’s a peculiar person, Carrie thought. I’d sure like to know what she’s really thinking.

  Before he headed for town, Henry said, “I’ll phone you as soon as I get any information from Ray, or from Jason and Eleanor.” As he kissed her goodbye, he murmured, “Stay in touch. I’ll expect a call every couple of hours.”

  He really is concerned about danger associated with Cousin Edie, Carrie thought, as she headed down into Walden Valley to pick up Shirley.

  Aloud, she said to Edie, “It’s going to be another beautiful fall day in the Ozarks. We probably won’t need our sweaters this afternoon.”

  “It is beautiful here,” Edie agreed. “I had no idea!”

  Shirley spent the hour’s drive to the fair schooling Edie in what she’d face during the day. By the time they parked among the exhibitor’s vehicles, Edie was able to repeat most of Shirley’s instructions back to her verbatim, and therefore the morning went smoothly. There was no time for casual chit-chat. Except for Carrie’s promised calls to Henry, talk was all business-related. During one brief phone conversation at noon she learned Ray hoped to get back with any information available about Agent Arnold Frost by late afternoon, and that Henry hadn’t heard from either of the Stacks. “I wouldn’t expect news until at least this evening,” he said. “After all, they’ve barely gotten there.”

  During the morning Edie didn’t mention Sales, and Carrie didn’t know if she’d walked around to talk to him during her lunch break. On her own break Carrie hurried around to the next aisle. Milton Sales wasn’t in his booth, and someone had put sheets over his merchandise. Carrie was itching to ask if the birdhouse builder had seen him, but there was a line at his counter, and the woman on the other side was also busy with customers, so Carrie couldn’t ask if they had seen Sales or who had put out the sheets.