In Harm’s Way - Ch. 40

From rough draft of In Harm’s Way by Pat Otterness

CHAPTER FORTY

????????????We made sandwiches at Hiram’s place, because all the bread at my house was spoken for. Someone was going to need to buy groceries soon. Chance didn’t have much of a selection, so I went with PB and J. Hiram chose a nasty looking tuna salad. He liked mayo. I hated it. I wasn’t that keen on fish, either. We packed some chips and bottles of water. No healthy snack bars could be found, but we snagged some chocolate bars instead. I phoned Hope and told her we were leaving. She was fixing lunch for hordes of hungry children and sounded a little frazzled. For a second there, I felt a soup?on of pity for her … but it passed quickly.

We had decided to take Wolf with us. He might be needed if we got lost. A breeze was whipping up and clouds were scuttering across the sky.?Uh-oh! Rain.?But we were already well under way, and I wasn’t going back for an umbrella. I guess a poncho would have made more sense, but since I didn’t have one, it made no difference. It was summer. I wouldn’t freeze, and I was unlikely to melt. We plodded on.

The rain began as mist and transformed into hard, stinging pellets as we made our way uphill. It was oddly refreshing. Something about experiencing nature in the raw filled me with optimism. My hiking boots weren’t with me, so I took off my shoes and tried walking in the stream without them. Slippery! My feet did not conform well with the rocks, but after a few minutes, the cold mountain water numbed my feet into submission.

Rain transformed once again into a veritable downpour. I was quickly soaked to the skin. Hiram seemed to be enjoying it, though. He plodded uphill through the stream, undeterred by the downpour, with a smile on his face. I knew he was thinking about those boxes and what they might contain.

I was thinking about how to get Carmen reunited with Dorita. The child had wormed her way into my heart.?I hate when that happens.?I was going to have to tell Jordan about Carmen, and the locket, and Crazy Betty. And that might mean Carmen could get deported. There didn’t seem to be any way around it. Things were getting out of hand. Three people had already died. I didn’t even know who the person was that they had found in my compost heap. But three bodies were enough. We had to figure this thing out fast.

Wolf splashed on ahead of us, then headed for the bank where the path resumed and shook himself. Water flew everywhere. For once, this was not a problem. I wished I could do the same thing. I followed him up onto the less-than-dry land. The rain was tapering off, and I found a large rock to sit on. I pulled my sandwich out of the soggy, falling-apart brown bag, and chomped my way happily through both halves, giving the last small bite of crust to Wolf, who clearly would have enjoyed eating the whole sandwich.

Hiram had already finished his sandwich, and was fighting the cap on his water bottle. After a short struggle, the plastic lid sprang free. He shared part of his water with Wolf, which was kind of a waste, since Wolf had had no qualms about drinking from the stream. It was, however, a very Hiram-like thing to do. Harm was always thinking of others. For some reason, that thought made me uncomfortable. Maybe just a hair guilty?

I pushed that thought away as we folded our paper bags and nibbled on chocolate bars. The day was heating up, and steam was actually rising from our soggy clothing. A kind of do-it-yourself steam bath. We trudged on. I had my shoes back on my feet again , but now the shoes??were rubbing against my feet and forming blisters.??My early optimism was fading as we approached our objective. I needed a nap.

As we approached the stone house, we heard something that stopped us in our tracks. It was Betty, but not the Betty we had come to know. We stepped back and hid behind some bushes. A harsh, broken voice was speaking in rhyme. At first it sounded like gibberish, but then I realized someone was there with her, a man, asking questions.

“Are you Betty?” he repeated again and again.

“Am I not? And who are you? All of the animals live in the zoo.”??Betty spoke in a soft,??sing-song voice.

“I’m looking for Betty Diez,” the man said sharply. “Are you Betty Diez, or not?”

“Not or nut, I’m anything but,” said Betty. “Who can I be, not you but me.”

This dialog continued until the man grew harsh. Speaking to an unseen companion, he said, “This must be her. Crazy Betty. That’s what they call her.”

“You’re not gonna get any sense out of her,” said the other man. “This is a wild goose chase.”

“Goose, geese, thank you please, go with the gander, blown with the breeze,”said Betty.

“Is there a Carmen Diez here?” The voice was aggressive. “Where is she? Does she have the diamonds?”

“What the hell? You men smell! No man’s car is here to tell. Better away, for if you stay, it will become more work than play.” Betty continued to alternate her poetry with pure gibberish. She began to hum a tuneless song, and gradually wandered away.

The men argued in low voices, and one said, “What do we do now?”

“We need to take another look at Fox’s place. She must have hidden them somewhere.”

I looked over at Hiram. He was holding Wolf’s mouth shut. I was amazed that Wolf was tolerating it. Then again, Wolf had was trained as a cadaver dog. Even Wolf had attributes he hadn’t been given credit for.

We could hear the men shuffling back down some trail we hadn’t seen. We listened for a long while, until we were sure they were out of earshot.

“Betty,” I called. “Are you here? It’s Chat.”

“And Hiram,” said my companion.

“Woof!” said Wolf.

“And Wolf,” I added, laughing. He didn’t want to be left out.

After a moment, Betty appeared. There was a gleam in her eye.

“Don’t even try it,” I said. “We’re onto your game.”

“It serves its purpose,” said Betty. “Those men were intrusive. I write better poems for the people who can appreciate them. Gobbledygook works best when I want folks to think I’m crazy.”

“I wondered about that,” I said, “I’ve heard you are an accomplished poet.”

“Where are Carmen and Fletch?”asked Hiram. “Fletch’s house was broken into and searched yesterday. They turned it upside down, looking for something. I think it was the same men who were just here.”

“Oh my goodness,” said Betty. “Are the children all right? Was anyone hurt?”

“Hope and the children were visiting at my house,” I said. “We kept them there last night, to be safe. But Fletch needs to come home. And Carmen needs to come with him. Dorita is feeling abandoned. She’s too young to understand.”

“Carmen and Fletch went for a walk,” said Betty. “They should be back soon.”

“I have an idea,” said Hiram. “About those boxes. Do you still have the key?”

“Carmen has it,” said Betty. “It’s in the locket, and she is wearing it.”

“ I think it’s possible that the key opens more than one of the boxes,” said Hiram. “I think it might even open all of the boxes.”

“A master key?” asked Betty. “I hadn’t thought of that. It’s certainly worth a try.” She led us into the house, and we all stared at the wall of artistic boxes hidden among the carvings of leaves and vines. What did they hold?