Charity Begins at Home - Ch. 38-40

Excerpt from Charity Begins at Home by Pat Otterness

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

? Ordinarily I would have tried to light some candles to see by.?I had a whole box of?Shabbat?candles that came in handy for power outages like this.?The bandages on my hands, though, were likely to catch on fire if I tried to light a match.?On reflection, I decided it was better to curse the darkness than to light a single candle.?It was late, I was tired, and the scrubs I was wearing would work just fine as pajamas.?The trick was to find my way to the bathroom and then to my bed.?Since I often groped my way between those two rooms in the middle of the night, I knew I could do it now.

Much of the clutter I usually had to detour around had been moved upstairs the day Hiram cleaned.?A clear path was open, and I made good progress in spite of almost total darkness.?As thunder boomed and branches creaked wildly in the wind, I crawled safely under the covers where the boogeyman couldn’t get me.?Very mature.

Sleep came quickly.?It was as much a measure of exhaustion as of fearlessness.?I had spent so much of my day in the dark that darkness had lost its clout.?The truth is, I wasn’t really afraid of Lizzie Beth Diggs.?I tended to limit my paranoia to?imaginary?threats.?I could turn a?what-if?molehill into a mountain of fear just like that.?But faced with a real life situation, my fear was overridden by curiosity.?Maybe that’s something I’d had in common with Lizzie Beth’s cat …?her dead cat.

I awoke at dawn to the sound of loud banging on the kitchen door, followed by footsteps pounding down the steps from the floor above.??What the heck!?I scrambled out of bed and padded barefoot to the kitchen, where my sister Hope stood glaring through the glass of the door at an equally angry Investigator Jordan Hunt.

“Hope!” I said.?What are?you?doing here?”?I took in her rumpled state, her baby-doll pajamas.?Just then a groggy, unshaven Chance Cassidy stumbled through the doorway in boxer shorts.?“You didn’t!” I said to my sister.?“Tell me you didn’t!”

“Believe what you want,” said Hope.?“You look awful!?Like you took a ride in the blender.”

“Thanks,” I said.?I pushed her aside and opened the door to Jordan Hunt.

Hunt’s face bore a mixture of emotions.?Anger and concern pulled him in different directions, but anger won.?“Why did you leave my house last night?” he said, his voice tremulous with fury.?“I told you to stay there where you would be safe.”

“I was safe?here,” I said, “though I can’t speak for Hope.”?I allowed my gaze to pass ominously between my sister and the barely clothed Cassidy.

“And what did you do to Merrie?” Jordan continued.?“I came home to find you gone and Merrie in tears.”?He glanced at Hope and Chance.?“Go put on some clothes,” he said to them.?They fled, happy to make their escape.?Jordan turned back to me.

“I don’t know,” I said.?“I told her Dr. Garrity believed she was your daughter. I thought she’d be amused.”

“Oh, Chat!” said Jordan.?“Of course she’s my daughter.?What did you think she was, my cleaning lady?”

My silence and my blush gave me away.

“No!??Not that??You thought she was my …?”?He broke off and shook his head, caught between anger and laughter.?“It’s not a simple story,” he said.?“Can we talk about this later, in private?”

I nodded.?“How is Glad Handy?” I said.?“Have you heard anything this morning?”

“Holding her own,” Hunt said.?“Still unconscious, but stable.?Her husband is with her.?He asked me to thank you.”?Laying his anger aside, Jordan looked me over.?“How are you doing,” he said.?“You look like a mummy that’s coming unraveled.”

“I feel like a walking?scab,” I said, giving him a reassuring grin.?“Dr. Garrity was nice.?Thank you for sending me there.”

“Mike is a good guy,” Jordan said.?“He’s my doctor?and?my friend.?I knew you’d be in good hands with him.”

“Yes,” I said.?“I’m sorry … about upsetting Merrie, and about coming back home against your wishes.?I just wanted to be in my own space.”

“I worry about you,” said Jordan.?“Jumping out of that barn … you could have been killed.”?He mumbled something else too low for me to hear.

“What?” I said

“I don’t want to lose you,” he said louder, flushing.

“Oh.”?I felt myself reddening, too.?“I’m not going anywhere,” I said.

“You take risks.?You’ve been interfering in this case right from the beginning.”?Hunt looked at me in frustration.?“I’ve asked you to leave it alone,” he said.?“Why can’t you do that, Chat?”

“I don’t know, exactly.?The barn thing,” I said, “that was Pansy’s doing.”?I thought for a minute.?“She came here the other night and asked me to check out that barn.”

“This Pansy,” said Hunt.?“Should I know who she is?”

“She’s one of Glad Handy’s best friends … and Lizzie Beth’s, too.”

“Okay.?So she wanted you to look in the barn?”

“Or have a deputy do it,” I said.?“She seemed to think I knew people in the Sheriff’s Department that would break into the barn if I asked them.?But of course I knew they wouldn’t … they?couldn’t?without probable cause …”

“So you broke out your handy-dandy burglar tools and broke into the Diggs’ barn yourself?”?Hunt did not sound pleased.

“I didn’t exactly break in,” I said.?“I had a key.”

“And you got this key?where, exactly?”

Uh-oh!?This was getting sticky.

“She got it from me,” said the gruff voice of Chance Cassidy from the doorway.?I’m a locksmith. I give her a master key.?The responsibility lies with me.”

“No it doesn’t!” I said.?“I asked him for it … begged him.?He didn’t know I’d be getting myself in trouble.”

“I knew she was wantin’ to see what was in the Diggs’ barn,” said Chance.?“I shoulda gone with her.?But with Dusty gone, I thought she’d be safe.”?He rubbed the stubble of beard on his face.?“I cain’t believe Lizzie Beth did what she did.?She cain’t have nothin’ to do with what happened to Glad.?Those two were tight.?Good buds.”

“Pansy said Lizzie Beth was afraid to go in the barn,” I said.?“I wonder why.”

“The barn was full of an agricultural fumigant known as methyl bromide,” said Hunt.?“Extremely lethal, and illegal as well.?We think it was methyl bromide that killed Buddy Tucker.?If Lizzie Beth knew the cylinders of methyl bromide were in the barn, she had good reason to be afraid.”

“Is that what Diggs used to fumigate the Frees brothers fields,” I asked.

“It seems very likely,” said Hunt.

“Then it must have caused Glad Handy’s chemical burns, too, just as she thought,” I told them.?“Kenny Byrd told us he saw her pull out plastic film from the waste containers at the Frees’ place.?If there was residue from the methyl bromide on the plastic film …”

“Yes, I think you’re right,” said Hunt.?“I have reason to believe Diggs hired Tucker to remove the plastic film from the fields.?Tucker didn’t use protective gear.?He may not have known he needed it.”

“So you think Tucker’s death was probably accidental?” I asked.

“Yes and no,” said Hunt.?“I don’t think Dusty Diggs intended to kill Buddy Tucker.?I do think he was criminally negligent, since he didn’t see to it that Tucker had the protective clothing and the safety instruction he needed.”

“I still wonder why Buddy was wearing Hiram’s clothing,” I said.

“What?”?said Cassidy.?“What’s this about Harm’s clothes?”

“The man who was killed … Buddy Tucker … he was found in the creek wearing Hiram’s shirt and pants,” I said.

“How would he get a-holt of Harm’s clothes?” asked Chance.

I told him about the suitcase Hiram had left in the bushes, how it had been ransacked.?I told him about the gun that had gone missing, too, and how it had been used to kill Dusty Diggs.

“It must’ve been Kenny,” said Chance.?“Kenny or Dusty, mebbe the two of ‘em, got into that satchel.?They was both nearby, and thick as thieves.?I been watchin’ ‘em.?Up to somethin’, foolin’ around in other folks’ gardens at night.?I’ve watched ‘em from my window a good few times.”

Hope, now fully dressed, joined us in the kitchen.?“I found this on the floor,” she said, holding up a shiny round object.?“Does it belong to any of you?”

‘It’s mine, I reckon,” said Cassidy, reaching out to take the medallion from Hope’s hand.?“Must’ve fell out of my pocket.”

“Yours?” asked Hunt.?“What is it, exactly.?We found a couple of others like it … didn’t know what they were.”

“It’s kinda like a good luck piece,” said Chance, showing the medallion around.?“Sorta like a silver coin, but not a real’un.?Well … the silver is real.”?He started to replace the medallion in his pocket.

“Where did you get it?” I asked.

“Treasure Trove.?It’s like a club,” said Chance.?“Bunch of folks who like to go lookin’ for treasure.”

“The metal detector!” I said.?“That’s what you do with the metal detector?”

“Who else is in this club?” said Hunt.?“Does anyone else on Dancing Creek belong?”

Chance nodded.?“Well … yeah.?Kenny Byrd prob’ly does … he joined up when we was in Texas.?They got groups all over the country.?I think ol’ Dusty was in it, too, though I never seen him at a meetin’.?He had him a metal detector, though.”?Chance rubbed the stubble of beard again.?“Not Harm, though.?Harm don’t hold with it.?He has this thing about wantin’ to?earn?his money, not just hope to happen on it.”

“Where?is?Harm?” I asked Hope.?“He was with you the last time I saw him.?“And where is your car??When I got back last night, your car was gone and I thought nobody was at home.?And then the power went out.”?Idly, I noticed that the power had been restored.?Good!?I could have a hot breakfast.

“I loaned it to Hiram,” said Hope.?She was looking out the window.?“What are all those cruisers doing out here??That looks like some kind of forensic van.”?She cast a questioning glance at our Sheriff’s Investigator.

“That’s forensics from Richmond,” said Hunt.?“Now that the rain’s stopped, I guess they’ll be digging up that grave.”

“What grave is that?” said Cassidy.?He watched the caravan drive past my house and continue down the road.?“On?my?land??What?grave?”

“There’s a new grave they found …” I began.

“My?dog’s?grave??You want to dig up my dead dog?”?Chance was getting worked up.

“No,” I said, it’s not Baby’s grave … it’s up in the woods, kind of hidden.”

“Good Lord!” said Chance.?“That’s where I buried my other dog … Raja.”

“That Rottweiler?” I said.?“The young one?”

“Lord, yes!” said Cassidy, grief written on his face.?“Poor Raja.”

“What happened to him?” I asked.

“Remember that night when you called me??Said someone was in your garden.?Asked me to take a look?”

“Yes, but you never came,” I said.?“You disappeared.”

“Well, I did come,” said Chance.?“There was this fella in your garden, coughin’ and actin’ funny.?He started to run and Raja sprang at him.?I couldn’t hold him.?There was this shovel that was lyin’ there, and I hit Raja with it.?Killed my own dog.”?Tears rolled down his cheeks.

“Then what happened?” said Hunt.?“Who was the man?”

“I don’t know.?He run off.?I didn’t get a good look.?He just took off and headed for the creek.?I let him go.?I was that upset about my dog.”

“Could you describe him?” said Hunt.

“Little guy like Harm.?Even wore a ol’flannel shirt like Harm wears.”

Jordan’s eyes met mine.?“Buddy Tucker,” we said in unison.

“Oh, Lord!” said Chance.?“I was upset from killin’ my dog.?I went an’carried my Raja up into the woods an’ buried him.?Didn’t want to see nobody.?When I come back down, I could hear ol’ Harm howlin’ how he’d been attacked by wildcats.?“I’da laughed if I hadn’t been so sad.?I just decided to take off.?I knew Harm was mad at me, and I couldn’t face him right then.”

Hope reached out and touched his hand.?What was the?matter?with my sister?

“Come on, Cassidy,” said Hunt.?“We need to get down the road and save some taxpayer’s money.?Let’s try to stop them from wasting their time digging up a dead dog.

?CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

? “What is the?matter?with you?” I said to Hope as soon as the men had left. “What were you?thinking? Chance Cassidy, of all people?”

“He’s nice,” said Hope. She jutted out her chin defiantly. “I was all by myself here last night, and he came to protect me.”

“Uh-huh,” I said.

“Well, look at?you,” said Hope. “All hung up on that cop. Oooh, Jordan!” She rolled her eyes derisively. “He’s the man of?your?dreams, I’ll bet.”

We looked at each other and laughed. We had always had different aspirations. As kids, Hope had wanted to be a ballerina … I had wanted to be Tarzan. She had wanted to marry a doctor … I had hoped for a cop. I ended up, for a time at least, with a dentist. Hope had married a lawyer who later became a senator. Neither marriage was a success.

“I came the closest,” I said. “Jordan Hunt is a Sheriff’s Investigator. I don’t know?what?Chance Cassidy is. I’m pretty sure he’s not a doctor, though. Did you get him to?play?doctor?” I ran as she threw a dishtowel in my general direction.

“Can you fix us some breakfast?” I called over my shoulder. “I can’t do much of anything with these hands.” I headed back to my bedroom to look for loose sweatpants that wouldn’t bind tightly across my sore belly.

Over breakfast I gave Hope a rundown of my adventures the day before. Her eyes grew round as I told about my jump from the barn loft.

“You could have been?killed,” she said. “How could you?do?that?”

“How could you sleep with Chance Cassidy?” I countered. “Now?that’s?scary!” And so it went, sisters being sisters. We lingered at the table after our breakfast was finished, enjoying the companionship and the banter.

“Why did Hiram borrow your car?” I asked. “I didn’t even know he could drive.”

“He’s a grown man, for goodness sakes. I expect he can do a lot of things you don’t know about.” Hope started clearing the table, putting dishes in the sink.

“So tell me why he has your car,” I said, persisting.

“He has a job,” said Hope. “Just for today.” She began running water in the sink.

“Doing what?” I said. I was baffled.

“Today he’s cleaning at a bed-and-breakfast place. The owner said she knows you.”

“Blanche Cook hired Hiram to?clean?” I said, amazed.

“Yes, and if you have any sense, you’ll hire him to clean for you once in a while. You’re not exactly Martha Stewart, you know.” Hope rinsed the last sparkling dish and put it in the drainer.

“So I’ve been told,” I said, grinning. “Thanks for the tip, Miss Manners.” I heard the sound of tires on gravel and looked out the window. Moments later, a tap on the door announced Hunt’s daughter Merrie.

“Hi Merrie,” I said, stepping back so she could enter. “Merrie, this is my sister Hope. Hope, my friend Merrie.”

“You must be Jordan’s daughter,” Hope said, smiling at Merrie and shaking her hand. “You look just like him.”

“Do you really think so?” said Merrie. She sounded a little unsure of herself.

“Any fool could see it,” said Hope. “Come in the living room and sit down. Can I get you a beverage? Something to eat?”

“No thank you,” said Merrie. “I brought this for Chat. Mike Garrity brought it around this morning. He thought you’d still be there,” she said to me. She held out a bag. “Ointment and bandages,” she said.

“That’s really nice – of him?and?of you,” I said, taking the bag from her.

“I was given instructions,” said Merrie. “I had to promise I’d apply the ointment myself, and report back to him.”

“Let me help. I’ll hold her down,” said Hope, clearly relishing the idea.

I turned to Merrie. “Okay,” I said, “but you can tell the?Marquis de Sade?that her help won’t be needed.”

Hope sniffed. “Since I’m not wanted here, I think I’ll walk down to Chance’s and see what’s happening.”

She wants to see Chance again, I thought darkly as she closed the door behind her.

I allowed Merrie to remove my bandages and check for infection. She seemed satisfied, and soon my belly was once again a masterpiece of gauze. I balked at the thought of gauze on my hands again, though.

“I can’t do anything with my hands wrapped up,” I said. “Isn’t there some other way?

“Do you have any clean cotton gloves?” Merrie asked.

I thought for a moment. “No … not?nice?gloves. Nobody wears gloves any more. But I have some brand new cotton?gardening?gloves.” I looked at her hopefully.

“Get them,” said Merrie. “I need to be sure they’re really clean and soft.”

The gloves were easy to find, still in the bag from the store where I’d purchased them. Merrie looked them over and pronounced them acceptable. She coated my hands with ointment and carefully fitted the gloves onto each slippery finger.

“Have you ever thought about nursing as a career?” I asked her. “You’re very good at care-giving.”

“Dr. Garrity said the same thing,” Merrie said. “I’m not really sure what I want to do.”

“My daughter is the same way,” I said. “Her interests change from week to week.”

“I didn’t know you had children,” said Merrie.

“Hermione didn’t tell you?” I was surprised. “You do know that Harrison is my ex-husband?”

“You … and Harrison?” Merrie looked stunned, then burst into laughter. “You’re kidding, right?” She pondered for a moment. “I don’t know. I guess she might have told me, but if she did, it didn’t register.” She continued to chuckle.

“The marriage was a joke, for sure,” I said, “but it did happen. We had three children together. Hermione used to be our babysitter.”

Merrie eyes widened with indignation. “You mean she stole him away from you?”

Now it was my turn to laugh. “If only,” I said. “No, I was the one who tired of the marriage. Harrison is very high maintenance. He needed more attention than I was willing to give him. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to speak unkindly about your friend.”

Merrie shrugged. “Harrison isn’t so much my friend,” she said. “I like Hermione, though. She sort of took me under her wing when I showed up on Jordan’s doorstep. I really needed a friend.”

“Why do you call him Jordan instead of Dad?” I said, then, “I’m sorry … that’s none of my business.”

“Oh, it’s okay. I’m a product of what Mom calls?a youthful indiscretion?… one college fling among many.” Merrie’s face echoed the pain of that disclosure. “Mom told me she thought my father was?probably?Jordan Hunt.” Merrie blushed. “She’s nice, my mom … really! But when she was young …” She left it at that, hoping I’d understand.

“So you came looking for Jordan, to see if he was your father?”

Merrie nodded.

“That must have been hard,” I said. “Did he know about you? That he had a child, I mean?”

“No,” said Merrie. “Mom never told him. She wasn’t even sure … not totally sure … he?was?my father.”

“Wow!” I said. “How do you go to someone’s door and say ‘Hi, I’m?possibly?your child that you never knew you had, but I?might?belong to someone else my mother doesn’t even remember’?”

Merrie gave a weak laugh. “It wasn’t quite that bad, but I think you understand how difficult it was. Jordan has been wonderful. He was surprised, but he seemed delighted.” Tears sprang to her eyes. “He accepted me as his right away. No doubts. I’m the one who still worries that he might not be my father.”

“A DNA test could tell you,” I said. “But you know that already.”

Merrie nodded, her face still tear-streaked. “But what if it said I’m not his?” she said. “I?want?him to be my father, Chat. I don’t want to lose him.”

I looked into Merrie’s lovely, sad eyes. “I don’t think you’ll lose him,” I said. “Test or no test, I think Jordan wants you as much as you want him.”

The kitchen door crashed open and Hope stormed in, clearly furious. “That idiot!” she said, slamming the door shut behind her.

“Chance?” I ventured hopefully, wondering what he could have done.

“Vaughn!” said Hope. “Sheriff’s Investigator-friggin’-Vaughn.”

I smiled. “Well put,” I said. “What has Vaughn done this time?”

Merrie was smiling, too. She must have had some experience with the man as well.

“He’s digging up the damn dog,” said Hope. “He didn’t believe what Chance told him. He has the State Police forensic specialists carefully, inch by inch, sifting soil for clues. Chance is having a fit!” Hope flung herself down in a chair at the table where Merrie and I were sitting.

“Can’t Jordan do something?” I asked.

“He tried. Vaughn wouldn’t listen. He said Jordan was?too close?to the subjects of his investigation.”

Merrie was grinning openly now, enjoying the story. “How did Jordan reply to that?” she said.

Hope looked perplexed. “He said something about how Vaughn would be?hoist with his own petard?… whatever that means.”

CHAPTER FORTY

? “The gloves really help,” I said to Merrie as she walked with me up the hillside to the garden. I flexed my sore fingers a little. Hands heal fast, I thought. Mine were certainly used to rough treatment.

“That’s good,” said Merrie. She looked around at the damage done by the previous night’s rain. “The garden is almost gone,” she said.

It was true. The heavy rain had pummeled the remaining blooms. Now the garden was filled with stalks holding only the shriveled and dripping remains of what had gone before. Some stalks were broken or beaten nearly to the ground, but they were the exceptions. Here and there, an older stalk offered up one final opening bloom. Also, in the midst of all the dying mid-season blooms, a few brave late-season ones opened their first bright terminal blossoms for us to admire.

I found I was able to handle the digital camera with gloves. A pen was harder for me to deal with, so Merrie had offered to jot down whatever notes and records I needed.

“It’s a shame,” said Merrie, “that these late blooms are overshadowed by all the dying blooms around them.”

I nodded in agreement. “Some of them,” I said, “will have other chances.” I pointed to one huge lacy white bloom with amazing ruffles. A seedling like this will have another chance. Mark it down for me as a reselect,” I said. I showed her where to note it in my records. “When I move it to the reselect bed,” I said, “it will be planted with other late-season varieties. Then, when it blooms next year, it won’t be lost among the dead and dying. It will have a colorful peer group.”

I was pleased to see swelling seed pods forming throughout the seedling garden. Lots of successful crosses. I pointed them out to Merrie, who had never seen iris seed pods before.

“When my hands have healed, I’ll need to remove these spathes,” I said, showing her the papery tissue at the base of each pod. If they’re not removed, moisture gets trapped in the spathes and encourages damage from insect larvae and rot,” I told her. “I’ll also need to reattach these cross tags more securely, so they won’t blow away. It’s frustrating to have seeds and not know the names of the parents.”

“Would you like me to do it for you?” said Merrie.

“It’s sweet of you to offer,” I said, smiling, “but I’m far too paranoid to let anyone else touch them. Pods pop off too easily, and then the cross is lost. If I do it myself, I have only myself to blame if an accident happens.” I looked around, assessing the garden. “I think we’re done here. Let’s go back to the house and get some lunch.”

Merrie and I found Hope waiting for us in the living room. “Let’s get lunch in Charlottesville,” said Hope. “I haven’t been there in ages.”

“Well,” I said, “if we do, I can get a couple of bales of potting soil at Southern States. I’ll be needing a lot of it in the next few weeks.” I turned to Merrie. “What about you?” I said. “Want to have lunch in Charlottesville?”

Merrie’s eyes sparkled. “That sounds like fun. I haven’t been there but once. Everything is still pretty new to me.”

“Great! We’ll do it!” I said. “A girls’ day out. Let’s take my car. I know the trunk will hold two bales of potting soil. Hiram has Hope’s car, and I doubt that Merrie wants dirt in the trunk of hers.”

“I don’t?either, you idiot,” said Hope. “Not everyone has your slovenly ways.” We shared a sisterly grin.

“I wish I’d had a sister,” said Merrie.

“Maybe it’s not too late,” said Hope, cutting her eyes at me.

“Bite your tongue!” I said. “I doubt if either of Merrie’s parents has a desire for a mid-life baby.

“But Jordan might marry a?much younger woman?someday.”

“I wonder if?Chance?is hoping to have a family,” I said. “Wouldn’t?that?be fun, sister dear?”

“You two are so funny,” said Merrie. “Always sharing and teasing. Even if I had a sister … a baby sister, I mean … it would never be like that with us.”

“Not all sisters are close, anyway,” said Hope. “Some really hate each other. There aren’t any guarantees.”

“That’s true,” I said. “Your best bet is to form good friendships that will go with you through life. Friends that become like a second family to you. You can start with us.” I gave her a wicked grin.

“Chat can be your wicked?stepmother,” said Hope. She dodged and ran for the car, with me in hot pursuit.

“And?she?can be your totally?desperate?aunt, Hope-along Cassidy.” I ducked into the back seat and shut the door, leaving the front and the driving to Hope and Merrie.

May is a pretty month in Virginia. Spring was trying to make the transition to summer as June approached. Everything sparkled after the night’s rain. Greens were greener, and the sky was clear and very blue. There were just enough drifting cumulus clouds to look picturesque.

“Where do you want to eat?” said Hope as we neared the Charlottesville exits from Rt. 29.

“Let’s eat at Sticks,” I said. It’s close to Southern States, and I can walk from Sticks to Martin Hardware to pick up some paint I need without moving the car.”

“I’ve never heard of Sticks,” said Merrie. “What kind of food does it have?”

“Would you believe healthy fast-food?” I said. “Meat or vegetable kebabs – and they’re healthy vegetables, too. Salads. Really good stuff that you don’t have to feel guilty about eating.”

“I never feel guilty about eating,” said Hope.

“You can get your kebabs as a sandwich, sort of,” I said, ignoring Hope. “They wrap them in flatbread, and they have a choice of fresh sauces. Really yummy.”

“No burgers and fries?” said Merrie.

“No burgers. You can get fries or onion rings if you absolutely can’t live without them, but most people don’t. If you want burgers and fries, eat at MacDonald’s.” I paused, embarrassed. “You?don’t?want to eat at MacDonald’s, do you?”

Merrie laughed. “No, silly! Sticks should be interesting.”

Hope, who was driving, pulled off Preston Avenue into the Preston Plaza shopping center and parked in front of Sticks. As we started to place our orders, a smiling brown face popped out from behind the grill.

“Hi Chat! You having the usual?”

“Hi Cash!” I said to the cheerful young man. “Yep! Same old, same old for me. Cash, this is my sister Hope and my friend Merrie. Girls, this is the man who fixes the perfect kebab, so treat him well.”

I ordered a lamb kebab sandwich and veggie kebabs. Merrie asked for a shrimp kebab sandwich, and Hope, being difficult on purpose, ordered fries with her beef kebab sandwich. We took the order slips to a nearby table and waited for our meals to be prepared.

“Do you mind if I look around?” said Merrie. The walls featured paintings and photographs by local artists.

“Go ahead,” I said. “There’s a group of excellent paintings of the Downtown Mall over there.” I pointed in the general direction of the paintings and Merrie wandered away from us.

“Can you hold down the fort for a few minutes?” I asked my sister. “I want to run across and pick up my paint. It should be waiting at the checkout desk.”

“Sure, go ahead,” said Hope. “I’ll eat your lunch for you if you take too long … save you the trouble.”

“You’ll make a lovely, plump little matron in a few years,” I said. “You and Chance will look just like Jack Spratt and his wife.” I grinned at her and hurried out the door.

I had almost made it across the Martin Hardware parking lot when I heard the click of footsteps behind me. Thinking it might be Hope, I turned to look. As I did so, a figure slipped into the alley behind Big Dog Tattoo and disappeared from sight.?Was that Kenny??I’d only caught a glimpse. And what would Kenny be doing here … unless he was following me.?Nah! Couldn’t be.?I continued into the hardware store to get my paint.

There was no sign of Kenny on the return trip … no sign that I was being shadowed by anyone. I joined Hope and Merrie in the booth at Sticks and lost myself in the yummy-ness of lamb kebab. Where else, I wondered, could a person find chunks of grilled lamb as part of a fast-food meal.

After lunch, it took only minutes to get two bales of potting soil from Southern States. Because of my frequent two-bale trips, they tended to laugh when they saw me coming … told me most people would get it all at once in a truck. Maybe so, but I didn’t?have?a truck. Nor was I willing to pay the $75 or $100 most places charged for a rural delivery.

My companions were growing restless. They wanted to shop. Since Hope was driving, my protests were useless. I asked to be dropped at the Greyhound station on West Main Street.

“What in the world will you find to do there?” said Hope.

“Ask around,” I said. “See if I can get the name of the bus driver that dropped Buddy Tucker off. See what I can find out.”

“You could just ask Jordan,” said Merrie.

How na?ve. “You think he would tell me??Really?”

“I guess not,” said Merrie. “He wants you to stay out of this case, Chat. Why don’t you come with us? Jordan will be beside himself if you get in trouble again.”

“How could I get in trouble?” I said. “I just want to ask a few questions. What can that hurt?”

“I’m going to park in the Omni lot,” said Hope. “Meet us in there in an hour, or I’m going home without you.”?She pulled up in front of the bus station, a block from the Omni Hotel’s pay parking lot, to let me out. “I mean it, Chat. I won’t search for you all over Charlottesville. Be there or be left.”