it.”
I doubted that.
It suddenly occurred to me to ask Oretta Clopper, who had never before visited me, why she had dropped by on this particular morning. I hoped she wasn't bringing me a copy of the play she'd told me about.
“I'll show you,” she said. “It's in the living room.” As I followed her out of the kitchen, Praxythea made a strange sound, which I would have interpreted as a giggle if she were the giggly type.
“What the heck is it, Oretta?” I asked softly, so as not to disturb the large, prehistoric-looking creature lying in a huge, rectangular glass box.
“It's an iguana. A man brought it to the Humane Society this morning. It belonged to his kids, but it grew bigger than they expected. They don't have room for it anymore.” Her frown told me exactly what she thought of people who didn't accept proper responsibility for their pets.
“I need someone to care for it until I can find it a suitable permanent home.” She smiled brightly. “Naturally, I thought of you, since I know you're an animal lover.”
“Cats,” I muttered. “It's cats I love. Fuzzy, warm animals you can snuggle up to.”
Praxythea peeked at it over my left shoulder. “Does it have a name?”
“No names,” I pleaded. Once you name an animal, it assumes a personality and becomes a member of the household.
“It's called Icky,” Oretta announced.
I groaned.
“How cute,” Praxythea murmured.
Oretta launched into a long, involved description of what it ate, and I relaxed a little upon learning it was a vegetarian. As long as it wasn't interested in eating cats or people, I figured I could live with it for a while. We moved it into the kitchen because that was the warmest room in the house and plugged in its heat lamp.
“It should only be for a few days,” Oretta promised. “Be sure and wash your hands after you touch it-they can carry salmonella.”
Salmonella-just what I needed in my kitchen!
Oretta accepted my offer of coffee, and we sat down at the kitchen table. When I questioned her about last night's fainting spell, she said she was feeling just fine.
“Doctor said I must have been overexhausted to faint like that. It's all the work I've put in on the pageant and, of course, supervising the food tables for the search parties up in the mountains. The strain was just more than I could bear.” She sighed deeply, worn out from her martyrdom. “But I'm not one to back down when a job needs done.”
“It
Oretta's eyes widened with surprise as she said, “Why of course, it's Eddie Douglas. Everybody there knew that.”
CHAPTER 5
“OH, SURE, EVERYBODY KNEW THAT!” I MUTtered to myself as I pulled out of the driveway, spraying gravel in my wake. “Everybody but me. You'd think someone might have mentioned it to me-for the newspaper.” I sighed as I wondered if I was ever going to be accepted here in Garnet's hometown, or would I always be an “outsider”?
At the end of the lane, I spied Ginnie Welburn sweeping a light dusting of snow off a porch. So that was where she lived. In typical New York fashion I'd been oblivious to everyone who lived around me. She saw me, raised one arm, and stepped forward as if she wanted me to stop and chat. However, I was already late for the borough council meeting, so I merely waved and continued on my way.
Outside Lickin Creek's historic borough hall, delicate snowflakes dropped lightly onto the redbrick sidewalk. Caught by sudden gusts of icy air, they swirled like confetti around the picturesque gaslights, settled like talcum powder on the shoulders of the little mermaid bathing in the empty fountain on the square, and persistently struggled to enter the charming, but very old, municipal building through the cracks around the doors and windows.
Shortly before Thanksgiving, the borough council, acutely in tune with the concerns of its constituents and aware of upcoming elections, had voted to set the central heating system at an energy-saving sixty-two degrees. Despite the sheets of heavy plastic nailed over the inside of the ten-foot-tall windows, this afternoon the council's meeting room was only slightly warmer than a meat locker. Notice I said
A wood-burning stove, dating back to the late eighteen hundreds, was lit to raise the frigid temperature, but all it accomplished was to fry those who sat directly in front of it, while the people seated at the far end of the long table had to keep on their coats, hats, and gloves.
I was late, as usual, but apparently I hadn't missed anything. The council was still enjoying its premeeting coffee break.
“Bless you,” I said to Buchanan McCleary, the town solicitor, when he brought a cup to me. I hadn't been sure of the propriety of helping myself. I took a sip and was pleased he'd remembered I like my coffee with lots of artificial creamer and sweetener. As the hot liquid rolled down my throat my body commenced to thaw from the inside out.
“Any news about Kevin?” I asked Buchanan as we stood in front of the stove stamping our feet as though participating in some primitive dance ritual.
“I'm afraid not,” he said. “Luscious called in a few minutes ago to say there are no leads.”
“Damn!”
I looked up at him. Way up. Buchanan was about six-six, with a sixties Afro that added another four or five inches. “Did you know that the remains they found in the quarry last night could be a boy named Eddie Douglas?”
“Of course,” he said. “Who else could it be?” He must have caught something on my face, because he added, “I guess you wouldn't have known-not being from around here.”
“Coming into a town where all the residents seem to be first or second cousins, I don't know lots of things.”
Our fronts were thoroughly toasted. We turned our icy backs to the stove. “Don't let it worry you, Tori. Time will take care of it.”
“Who was Eddie Douglas?” I asked.
“A little boy who wandered away from his house about thirty-five years ago and never came back. Nobody knew what happened to him-until last night. I was just a kid, myself, but I remember my mom wouldn't let me out of her sight for months.”
I repressed a shudder. “I hope Kevin's story has a happier ending.”
There was no sign that the council meeting was ready to begin, so Buchanan refilled our coffee cups. He handed mine back to me and said, “What's the latest word from our illustrious police chief? Has he finished his Spanish classes at the Foreign Service Institute?”
I was too proud to admit I hadn't heard anything from Garnet in weeks. “He graduated first in his class. And he's been in Costa Rica for nearly a month. As I'm sure Greta has already told you.”
The smile that split Buchanan's dark brown face could have warmed the room. He and Garnet's widowed sister, Greta Carbaugh, had become an item over the past several months. United, they were going to save whales, rain forests, spotted owls, and Chesapeake Bay. They even seemed to enjoy the minor controversy caused by their interracial relationship.
Whenever I saw them together, I couldn't help but feel a tiny twinge of envy. They made me wonder how other
