Before I Wake (31 page)

“And if I said it was none of your business, or any business of that Bruce Chapel fellow you’ve got following me all over the place?”

Nathan refused to go there. “We’re past that point. Either you start talking, or I’m going to arrest you for speeding every time you so much as go a mile over the limit, and then I’m going to start working on getting that license revoked. I’ve had it with the mysteries around this town.”

“You don’t have to get testy about it.”

“Henry—”

“Things aren’t going well out at the negotiations.”

“No. They are not.”

“I was taking a batch of the sodas out to the guys to sample. This batch is pretty decent.”

Nathan tried to shift gears and listen to what his grandfather was saying, even as he dodged the questions Nathan wanted to hear answered. “You sure you’re not just going to poison them with another experimental brew?”

Henry leaned back against his car and crossed his arms across his chest. He smiled. “You have to admit, the lemonade wasn’t so bad until it gave folks the runs.”

“Everyone who sampled it spent the next day groaning about the lemon pits growing in their guts. Soda this time?”

“It’s not such a far-out notion. Big Joe’s Soda—it’s got a pretty good kick without much sugar in it.”

Big Joe’s Soda—Joe Prescott and his grandfather had been involved in something if this was how Henry was honoring his friend after death. Nathan sighed and leaned against the car beside his grandfather. “I’m declaring myself off duty. It’s been a month out of a horror novel, Henry. I don’t need more of it coming from family right now. Please, explain it all. What are you up to? And where’s the money coming from?”

“We’re working on some new business ideas, Bob Teal and I. This town needs something better than the tile plant to depend on. Your grandmother thought it was a foolish notion, but soda’s got potential.”

“You’re going into the beverage business?”

“We worked on a glue formulation first, but it didn’t pan out. We tried a formulation of mud—you know the kind major league baseball rubs on the balls before games—there was some interest among the T-ball leagues to come up to professional standards with their baseball preparations, but it didn’t fly. Now we’re experimenting a bit with soft drinks. There is low overhead costs in soft drinks—just soda water and some flavorings. It’s more the bottling and shipping costs that make a business profitable or not.”

“That’s what you’ve been working on out at your place, causing all those odd sounds late at night from the woods?”

Henry frowned at him. “Don’t go claiming it’s a big secret that I’ve got a workshop back there in the timber. You helped haul the ceiling joists out there with your dad. Your grandmother refused to let me pour concrete on good tillable land, and she wasn’t going to have a metal-sided building larger than the house sitting up near the road being an eyesore.”

“I was under the impression you were still using that building to store farm equipment.”

“You know I haven’t driven a tractor in close to a decade. The land’s been tenant farmed for years. All I do is hassle Jim about how many weeds he’s got growing in the beans.”

Nathan had indeed heard a few of those friendly debates between the two men over the last years.

“Bob’s been doing the reading and the studying, and I’ve been doing the experimenting and the trying out of his ideas. Joe was helping us out, back in the days he was around. His idea of making fishing lures turned out to be a mighty nice idea. He had the old wood-press equipment from his father still around his place, and we modified it a bit. They made some real fast-moving bass shimmies. If the treble hook piece of it wasn’t so hard for old hands to tie off, we would have done more with that business than we did. We handed that business idea over to Vernon and he’s been making a nice side business out of the lures, selling them at the hardware store.”

“You’ve been busy. I didn’t know.”

Henry shrugged. “I’m old enough I’m bored, and this town needs workable ideas. There’s no reason I can’t be trying to come up with solutions.”

“I’m not disagreeing. But where’s the funding for this experimenting coming from?”

“Now don’t go disapproving on me. I don’t approve of what Joe did, killing himself. But he left a chunk of cash for Bob and me to use for the town’s good and we’re doing it the best we know how. He didn’t have a grandson to leave it to any longer.”

“You could have said something.”

“And listen to the townsfolk comment on every new idea Bob and I decide to explore? Or have to put up with the outrage of folks about Joe being so deliberate about what he did in preparations before he killed himself?

“I’m too old to put up with what this entire town thinks. Joe didn’t give us any hint of what he was planning; you know we would have sat on him to knock that stupid idea out of his head, but we aren’t disrespecting his memory and his final wishes.”

“I thought you were mixed up in something illegal.”

“Me?” Henry snorted. “Your grandmother would come out of the grave and drag me down with her. About the only law I’ve broken lately is speed limits and that’s just a heavy foot in a very nice car.”

“Or something.”

“Well, I’ve got some living to make up for. We never had a new car, your grandmother and me. Always used. Always well broke in. I’ve been thinking red Porsche since before you were born. I’m going to enjoy spinning its wheels a bit in my last years of driving.

“Besides—the car is leverage. Bankers haven’t changed. We’ll invest cash with this old guy since he’s got more cash than he needs to begin with. He just bought himself a Porsche for cash. We’ll give him a loan to make some fishing lures.”

“You bought that car because you love to drive fast.”

“Mainly that. But seriously, the fishing lures and a few of the other ideas—they did make quite a bit of money. There just wasn’t any way I was telling that to your grandmother while she was talking up a storm about going to see Alaska on a cruise. Her health wouldn’t have made it, and the only reason she was carrying on so much about it was the fact she knew we couldn’t afford to go. It gave her something to safely hassle me about and I quietly let the money accumulate in the bank. When she passed away—well, I should have taken her to see Alaska. So I spent the money on a car instead and I hear her hassling me about it every time I turn on the ignition.”

“Henry—spend the money any way you like and enjoy every penny of it. But know that when your health gets so bad you can only talk about cruising around in that car, I’m taking your license away and you can just safely hassle me.”

“I’ll drink to that.” He opened the car door and reached in for two of the soda bottles in the case. “Icy cold, the absolute best soda there could be.”

Nathan popped the top on his and sampled with a bit of caution. “Nice.”

“This batch turned out particularly well.”

They drank the sodas, watching the snow fall. Nathan thought it nice they weren’t arguing for a change. And the soda was pretty good.

Nathan handed back his empty bottle. “Drive more carefully, Henry. There’s no need to smack up a particularly nice expensive car.” He looked at the car. “Your grandson wants to inherit that car one day.”

Henry laughed. “Absolutely right you do. Now that’s more what I expect from you.” He stored the empty bottles back in the case.

Nathan picked up the keys his grandfather had dropped. His flashlight reflected off the medallion on it that Henry’s wife had given him. H.SR.
Henry Senior
. Nathan wondered if he was so tired he didn’t connect even obvious facts together anymore. “Were you the one who called Peggy Worth and confirmed a notebook was found?” he asked, handing back the keys. “A week ago Wednesday?”

Henry looked puzzled. “I called and left a message; that was Peggy Worth? It never registered that I heard a name.” He frowned. “I got handed a slip of paper by one of my old cop buddies with a question and a phone number and asked if I could answer it. Not that the answer was material to anything. Still, I would have mentioned it to you if I’d realized that was the reporter who died in town.”

“I need details, Henry. It might be important.”

Henry shrugged. “Not much to tell. Some reporter called one of the investigators on the Prescott case a couple weeks ago looking for confirmation there had been a school notebook found among Joe’s grandson’s things and what had it said. He had no idea what she was talking about, and the note got bounced around and eventually the question got passed to me.

“Prescott found the notebook among his grandson’s things when he was getting ready for the boy’s funeral. Nothing suspicious in it. Kids that were going to the party, the time they were going to meet up, a couple scrawled names Joe didn’t recognize. The investigators back then looked into the details on it and returned the notebook to Joe. There wasn’t anything particularly useful about the information. I couldn’t figure out why the reporter even cared about it.”

“Where’s the notebook now?”

“I’ve no idea. Joe kept a lot of his grandson’s stuff, but he wasn’t the kind of guy to neatly file items. About the only thing we cleaned up was stuff related to the will and the land. The rest is still sitting out there.”

“Thank you. It answers a puzzle for me.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t know to mention it earlier. I don’t mind annoying you, Nathan, but making the job harder—that I never intended.”

“That distinction is appreciated. Drive carefully, Henry. You want those sodas drinkable when you arrive out at the lakehouse.”

Nathan watched his grandfather leave and then he let himself rub his eyes. He’d send an officer out to Joe’s place tomorrow to try and find the school notebook. But from the sound of it, Peggy really was a wrapped-up case now with not much left to even pursue.

The death was natural causes. It didn’t sit well, but it was what the evidence said. At least Rae had pulled a first case that looked like it was going to close itself for lack of questions to answer. He just hoped they were seeing everything they should.

Jesus, I need a quiet day tomorrow, a settled strike, and for this town to slide back to normal. I’m looking forward to church in the morning and a chance to leave aside the job for a few hours. I need that break so badly. I’m tired, God. Deeply tired inside where hope tries to live. If You wouldn’t mind, please send some energy to get me through the next week.

He started his car and clicked on the interior light. He stored his clipboard. He wondered what was going to interrupt that hope for quiet. The dispatcher had at least been quiet tonight. It was past time to go see his dogs and find some real sleep. He glanced at his watch. Tomorrow was already here.

30

The Sunburst Hotel had few guests coming and going Sunday morning. The parking lot was half empty. Bruce wondered at that and what it meant for this town as he walked with Nathan toward the front entrance. “This hasn’t been good for business.”

“It will blow over.”

Bruce glanced over, the near dead sound in Nathan’s voice telling him the man was struggling this morning to even be interested in how much business the hotel was doing, something he would normally care an enormous amount about. “You should have stayed in bed another hour and met up with Larry after services. You’re beat.”

“The alarm about got thrown across the room. Let’s do breakfast somewhere they’ll leave the pitcher of coffee on the table.”

“I like that idea.” Bruce held the door for them to step inside the lobby. “Seriously, Nathan. Take a few hours off. You can’t work every day of the month and still care about what happens to lost dogs and upset grandmothers.”

The words got his friend to at least smile. Bruce figured something had to give today or his friend was going to end up with his friendly sheriff reputation getting tarnished when he snapped at the next problem that came across his pager. The town needed a sheriff who at least got some sleep occasionally.

Nathan punched the elevator button for the third floor. “I’m planning to hibernate for a long weekend out at my country place when this strike is over.”

“You should make it at least a full week,” Bruce suggested. “Thanks for making it possible for Rae to keep working on this case, rather than shift it all to Sillman. I know we’ve been stepping on his toes a bit this last week.”

Nathan shrugged. “I don’t have enough evidence to override the coroner and formally reopen the matter, but you’re welcome anyway. I’ve appreciated the way Rae has tackled it. Peggy’s parents were right to hire her to get their questions answered. She does a solid job. And Sillman kind of likes her, you know. They’ll work out an understanding.”

“Rae’s going to have the notebook transcribed and have a list of questions for us to answer over breakfast,” Bruce guessed.

Nathan laughed. “I’m betting she does too.”

They walked the hallway toward Rae’s room.

“We need to find her somewhere other than a hotel to live once this settles down,” Bruce noted, thinking again about his conversation with Rae the other night. Rae would be the kind to move into a rougher neighborhood if he or Nathan couldn’t talk her out of it. “I don’t want her having an excuse to move farther north into the city. Her family’s crime-scene cleanup business will suck her in if it gets the chance. Having her walk into scenes like Nella’s to be the one cleaning it up just doesn’t sit well with me.”

“You won’t get a disagreement on that from me.”

Bruce knocked on her hotel-room door. “Rae, it’s Bruce and Nathan. Ready for breakfast?”

There wasn’t an answer.

Bruce knocked again and checked the doorknob out of habit. “The door’s hot.”

“What?”

“The door is hot. Look the other way.”

“She’s here?”

Bruce felt a desperate fear in his gut as the heat reminded him of past cases. “If she’s not I’ll have some explaining to do. Look the other way.” He put his foot into the door lock and popped it. The door crashed back against the wall.

Heat met them, heavy in the room with the room heater still running, pouring it out. Rae was stretched out on the far bed, sprawled facedown across open folders and notepads of paper, a stack of drying pages from the notebook half slid to the floor beside her. She didn’t move. Bruce felt his heart stop.