“Sheriff, I think Primrose Hobbs was murdered because of that foot.”
“Or the thing could be a biological specimen.”
“A woman examines an object which is the subject of controversy, that object disappears, and the woman turns up dead three days later. If there's no link it's one hell of a coincidence.”
“We're looking at every angle.”
“Have you learned why no one reported her missing?”
“Apparently, parts of the operation are shifting to Charlotte. When Hobbs failed to show at the morgue on Monday, her coworkers figured she had gone there. Folks in Charlotte assumed she was still in Bryson City. She was in the habit of phoning her son on Saturdays, so he had no clue that anything was amiss.”
I wondered about Primrose's son. Was he married? A father? In the army? Gay? Were mother and child close? Occasionally my work casts me as the bearer of life's most terrible news. In one visit, families are shattered, lives forever altered. Pete had said that most marine officers in Vietnam days would rather engage the enemy than visit a home in middle America to deliver a message of death. I wholeheartedly shared those sentiments.
I imagined the son's face, blank at first, confused. Then, with comprehension, agony, grief, the pain of an open wound. I closed my eyes, sharing at that moment his crushing despair.
“I dropped in at the Riverbank Inn.”
Crowe's voice brought me back.
“After the marina, I swung by for a chat with Ralph and Brenda,” she said. “They admitted they hadn't seen Hobbs since Sunday, but didn't consider it odd. She'd left without explanation twice during her stay, so they assumed she'd gone off again.”
“Gone off where?”
“They figured she was visiting family.”
“And?”
“Her room suggested otherwise. All her toiletries were there, toothbrush, dental floss, face cream, the things a woman takes when she travels. Her clothes were still in the dresser, suitcase empty under the bed. Her arthritis medication was sitting on the nightstand.”
“Purse? Car keys?”
“Negative. Looks like she may have left the room on her own, but she wasn't planning to be away overnight.”
Crowe listened while I described my own visit to the inn, leaving out nothing but my larcenous intentions.
“Why do you suppose Ralph went into her room?”
“Your intuition may have been right. Curiosity. Or maybe he knows more than he's letting on. Maybe he wanted to get something out. I don't have that yet, but we
“Round up the usual suspects.”
“In Swain County, that ain't many.”
“Was there nothing in that room to suggest where she might have gone? An address? A map? A toll ticket?”
The line hummed.
“We found two numbers next to the phone.”
As she read the digits, my stomach tightened.
The first rang at High Ridge House. The second rang the cellular-on my belt.
An hour later I lay in bed, trying to sort and evaluate what I knew.
Fact: My mysterious foot did not belong to Daniel Wahnetah. Possibility: The foot came from a corpse at the courtyard house. The ground stain contained volatile fatty acids. Something had decomposed there. Possibility: The foot came from Air TransSouth 228. Biohazard containers and other problem body parts had been recovered near the wreckage.
Fact: The foot and its dossier were now missing. Possibility: Primrose Hobbs had kept the material. Possibility: Primrose Hobbs had returned the material, which was then taken by someone else.
Fact: The remains of Jean Bertrand and Pepper Petricelli had not been identified. Possibility: Neither man was on the plane. Possibility: Both the detective and his prisoner were on board, their bodies pulverized by the explosion.
Fact: Jean Bertrand was now a suspect.
Fact: A witness claimed to have seen Pepper Petricelli in upstate New York. Possibility: Bertrand had been turned. Possibility: Bertrand had been burned.
Fact: I had been accused of stealing evidence. Possibility: I was no longer trusted because of my relationship with Andrew Ryan, Bertrand's SQ partner. Possibility: I was being set up as a scapegoat to prevent me from participating in the investigation. But which investigation, the plane crash or the courtyard house? Possibility: I was at risk. Somebody had tried to run me down and had trashed my room.
A tickle of fear. I held my breath, listening. Silence.
Fact: Primrose Hobbs had been murdered. Possibility: Her death was a random act of violence. More likely: Her death was related to the missing foot.
Fact: Edward Arthur obtained the property at Running Goat Branch in 1933 through his marriage to Sarah
