Murder in the Devil's Cauldron (32 page)

Starr did as she was told, then handed the
form back. "That's it?"

"For now." The woman's glasses were back on
the end of her nose. "Don't worry honey. You've done everything
you're supposed to. Now why don't you go do something fun. Believe
me, when you get to be my age, you won't be able to. So enjoy it
now."

"Thanks." Starr felt like there had to be
something else she could say, but couldn't think what it was. She
went back outside and stopped at the bottom of the stairs. She was
pretty sure the woman hadn't taken her seriously. The problem was,
Starr couldn't think of what else to do.

Charlie had settled herself comfortably on
the picnic table bench at the back of the little park, making sure
she was completely in the shade. She had selected the table because
it was the only one that would stay shaded most of the day. Besides
the birch and fir trees, oak and aspen spread their branches out
over the table, forming a green canopy overhead.

She also liked the table because it was
private and when she came into Ruby Cove on her own, she could read
for hours and no one would disturb her. It amazed her how many
people used to come over, always wanting to know what she was
reading or what she was doing. She had been brought up to be
polite, but when she was deep into a story, the last thing she
wanted was for people to take that as an invitation for
conversation. Since she had started using this table, though, that
had stopped. Maybe they didn't see her because she was in the
shade, but whatever the reason, it was now one of her favorite
places.

Today she hadn't brought a book because she
was helping Starr, but as she waited for her friend to come back
from the sheriff's office, she was wishing she had. It wasn't
totally boring because she could see what was going on in the town,
but she would much rather read a book.

Charlie toyed with the idea of going over to
see Melissa at The Bookworm and see what was on the bargain table,
but it was too warm and she figured that by the time she got over
there, Starr would be done. Not to mention that she had just enough
money for a slice of lemon meringue at Suzanne's Pies and there was
no doubt in her mind which of the two would win the competition for
her money today.

The other thing fun about sitting at this
table, was that she could see everything that was going on over at
the Bide-A-Wee. It was set on an angle and she could see all the
little cabins. Every once in a while someone would drive in and go
to a cabin or come out and drive away. Which wouldn't have been all
that interesting, except that Charlie had heard all kinds of
stories about what went on at the motel from Gina Peterson at
school. Her parents owned the motel and she was always telling them
something interesting.

Charlie didn't really hang out with her
because Gina was a few years older, but it was a small school and
when Gina had a story, everyone came over to hear it. Charlie
figured that most of the stories were exaggerated so they would
sound a lot more interesting than what had really happened. After
all, she lived at Storm Point Lodge and she never saw anything much
that would make a good story. But Gina's stories were entertaining
and Charlie figured that
some
of it had to be true. Even if
only a little bit.

So today, as she waited for Starr to return,
Charlie kept an eye on the motel just in case one of those
interesting things actually did happen. She was thinking that it
would be so cool if she could say she had actually
seen
it.
That whatever it was had actually happened
right in front of
her
. She could just imagine the envious looks on the other
kids' faces when she told them. They all wanted to be the one who
saw something, and that it had been
her
was simply too
delicious.

Then, just as she was imagining telling them
what she had seen, someone drove around to the back of the motel
and parked. Not terribly interesting, except the driver didn't get
out of the car right away. As the seconds ticked away and no one
got out, Charlie got more and more interested. So by the time the
driver
did
finally get out, she was keeping a pretty close
watch on the car.

Charlie gasped as the driver looked around.
She slouched lower on the bench until her chin rested on the picnic
table. It was fairly dark back here because of the shade, but she
wasn't about to take a chance. Especially when the man looking
around was the guy Starr had seen kill his wife. If she hadn't seen
him at breakfast this morning, she might not have recognized him,
but his face was still fresh in her mind and she knew immediately
who he was.

Fascinated, she watched as he turned slowly
as if checking everything out, and then walked around the side and
knocked on the door of one of the cabins. Charlie's jaw dropped as
the door opened, he went inside and closed the door.

She could hardly believe it.

Then she remembered that Starr would be
coming right past the motel when she was done talking to the
sheriff. What if he came out of the cabin at the same time and saw
her?

Charlie ran around the back of the motel and
over to Ole and Lena's diner. She could head Starr off from
here.

Starr cast a quick look at The Bookworm. She
wondered if they had any used books on photography. Maybe even a
book by Nadine Blacklock. That would be tremendously cool. She'd be
willing to bet she wouldn't have to twist Charlie's arm to go in
after eating some pie. While she didn't have a lot of money with
her, it wouldn't hurt to
look
.

She started back to the picnic area. She
hadn't gone more than a few steps when she saw Charlie waving at
her frantically from behind the diner. Puzzled, she veered over in
that direction, her feet sending up little puffs of dust in the
gravel.

"Quick!"

As she got close, Charlie pulled her behind
the diner.

"What?"

"He's here." Charlie's voice was a hoarse
whisper.

"Who?"

"Him. The killer."

"Where?"

"At the motel. He's in someone's cabin."

Starr craned her neck to see, but Charlie
pulled her back.

"Not here. Come on."

Feeling like she was suddenly in an old spy
movie, Starr followed Charlie behind the diner back to the picnic
table and sat next to her so they could both face the motel.

"He can't see us here 'cause it's too dark,"
Charlie whispered. "Well, he probably could," she amended. "But
he'd have to look real hard. So if we stay real still and keep low,
we can see him, but he won't see us."

Starr hunched over. They'd look really silly
if anyone else came into the picnic area. "What's going on in
there?"

"I dunno," Charlie said. "He just knocked and
then went in. His car's still here, so maybe we'll see something
when he leaves."

"Which cabin?"

"The one on this end."

Starr studied the wall. There was a small
window higher up on the wall. Probably for the bathroom. It was
slightly open.

"Wave if you see the door open," Starr said.
Keeping low, she ran over to the motel and then flattened herself
against the wall next to the window. Hoping no one would drive by
and give her away, she got as close to the opening as she could.
With her back against the wall, she would be able to see Charlie if
she waved. Starr was also hoping she'd be able to tell when he left
so she could hide.

"Geez, David," Viv complained as she closed
the door quickly. "I'm not even up yet."

"Well, get up," he commanded as he strode
into the room. "I need to see how you look."

"Right now?"

"Right now." He looked around, then sat on
the bed. "We don't have a lot of time, so let's get going."

"Christ. Why didn't you call or something?"
She carried a set of clothes into the bathroom, but left the door
open as she changed and put on the makeup.

"I came by last night, but you were off doing
something. I don't want to make calls from the Lodge because those
will show up on my bill and I don't want any connection to this
place. Or to you. At least none that don't fit in with the rest of
the plan."

"So it's on then?"

"It's on. More importantly," he added. "It's
on as soon as you're ready. Hopefully that's right now."

"I think I'm close," Viv said, her
disembodied voice echoing against the bathroom tile. She came out a
few minutes later. "What do you think?"

Fowler eyed her critically. Most of the
elements were there, but something was off. "Close, but not quite
there," he said.

"What's not right?"

"I don't know. Let me think, will ya." He
looked her over again. "Where's the picture?"

Viv went back in the bathroom and came out
with the photograph of Diana and handed it to him, then stepped
back.

He looked at the picture and then back at
Viv.

"You got the hair right," he said finally.
"It's the makeup. You don't look real."

"I was afraid of that," she said. "I'll have
to go back to Grand Marais."

He shook his head. "Go to Duluth. Up at the
Miller Mall where no one will remember you. Take the picture and
tell them you're trying to match the look. Use one of the better
brands and get a makeover." He looked at his watch. "If you leave
now, you could be back by dinner."

"You want me to go right now?"

"Yesterday would actually be preferable," he
said. "But yes, now. I need to introduce you to a couple of people
tonight, so get a move on. I'll pick you up at four. Oh, and how
long did you get the room for?"

"A couple more days."

"When you get back, call the desk and tell
them you might be here another week."

"Another week?" The idea of being stuck here
that long was unimaginable.

"That's what you tell
them
, Viv
dearest," he said in his most exaggerated voice of utmost patience.
Never call the help names if you can help it, he reminded himself.
Otherwise they'll just come back and bite you in the butt.

"I just want to make sure this place is
available and I don't want them to know I might be staying here,"
he added.

"What are you up to this time?" Not a good
question, she knew. But curiosity finally got the best of her.

"Let's just say there's a minor glitch in the
plan and I may have to get out of the Lodge before I'm ready to
leave." He forestalled her next question. "We'll leave it at that.
All right?"

"If that's what you want," she said, throwing
up her hand. "But I'd be a lot more help to you if I knew what the
hell was going on."

"You're doing just fine," he said. "Besides,
with any luck, we'll be out of here in a couple of days with more
money than either of us can ever spend."

She smiled at him provocatively. "Oooooh.
Just hearing that gives me goosebumps."

Fowler grinned. He knew her well enough to
know that it gave her more than goosebumps. "Good. Give me a minute
to get out of here and then get your butt to Duluth."

Viv nodded and Fowler looked out of the
window. No one was outside and he opened the door, looked around
again, then closed the door behind him and walked casually around
the corner. As he returned to his car, he thought he saw someone
moving in the picnic area further up the road, but when he looked
over, all he saw were a few empty picnic tables and what looked
like an abandoned bike. Probably a bird, he thought as he got in
his car.

Starr listened intently, trying not only to
hear what they were saying, but also trying to figure out what it
meant.

Then she heard the killer say, "give me a
minute to get out of here and then get your butt to Duluth."

Starr knew she had just a minute to get into
hiding. She looked across at the picnic area and knew she'd never
make it. She was fast, but not
that
fast.

Instead, she ran to the back of the parking
area and ducked behind a car at the far end. She slid slightly on
the gravel when she came around the car and managed to keep from
wiping out by turning slightly and sliding up against the back tire
as if she was sliding into second base. Just seconds later, she
heard the killer's footsteps crunching on gravel as he returned to
his car. They stopped briefly and then she heard a car door slam
shut. It seemed like forever before the car started and drove
slowly away.

Starr peered cautiously around the end of the
car to make sure he was gone. She saw a flash of taillights as he
went towards the front of the motel. A few minutes later, she saw
the car head back down the highway.

Starr breathed a sigh of relief and returned
to the picnic table. She didn't see Charlie until she went behind
the picnic table where she saw her friend lying on the ground, eyes
tightly closed, as if that would make her more difficult to
see.

Starr grinned. "Charlie?"

Charlie opened one eye and looked at her,
then opened the other eye. "He gone?"

"Yep."

"I think he saw me."

"Well, if he did, it wasn't a very good look
'cause he left."

Charlie lifted her head and looked over at
the motel. When she didn't see Fishy Fowler, she clambered up onto
the bench. She looked over at the motel again as if to reassure
herself that he really was gone.

"Did you hear anything?" she asked
finally.

"I didn't get everything," Starr said, then
repeated the parts she had heard.