Murder in the Devil's Cauldron (41 page)

"Something important. That's all you need to
know."

"If you say so," she said tightly and opened
the menu.

"Oh, come on, Viv," he cajoled, taking her
hand. "Don't be like that. It's just that it's better if you don't
know everything."

"Better for who?"

"Both of us," he said flatly, dropping her
hand. "What you don't know can't hurt me. And you can't get in
trouble if you don't know about something."

"There is such a thing as being an
accessory," she reminded him.

"Don't worry about it," he told her. "You're
fine. They only know you as Diana Marshall here. You're invisible
as soon as you leave."

"When do you think you'll get to the
motel?"

"Don't even think about going anywhere," he
ordered. "It could be as little as thirty minutes or it could be
hours. But I don't want to get there and find out you've run into
Grand Marais for a drink. I want you ready to go the second I get
there. And leave the door unlocked. I don't want to stand in front
of the door waiting to get in and give anyone a chance to see me
there."

"Oh, all right," she said sulkily and went
back to the menu.

The waitress returned a moment later and
Fowler turned his attention to the meal, hoping he'd have enough
time to eat before the kid and her mother left.

That night they ate dinner in the employee
dining room instead of taking everything back to the cabin. Starr
knew it was because her mother was angry and couldn't stand being
cooped up with her in the tiny cabin.

Starr was more than happy with that decision.
Eating dinner with her mother was a lot like eating in the school
cafeteria back in Minneapolis where she never knew if one of the
bullies was going to come by and "accidentally" tip over her tray
or trip her as she was going to her table. She had learned to
always be on guard at school, but it was much harder at home.
Sometimes her mother got upset at the smallest thing and even
saying nothing could be hazardous.

So eating in the employee dining area was
nice because there were other people around and she knew her mother
wouldn't say anything while they were there. Better yet, her mother
wouldn't start in on how upset she was and how much Starr was
always messing up. Starr knew how much the visit from the sheriff
had upset her mother, so getting a break from being chewed out
again was a treat.

Starr knew that Charlie and her dad ate early
so her dad could be in the kitchen during the main dinner rush. She
had been hoping to see Charlie on the way to the Lodge so she could
tell her friend she had been grounded and wouldn't be able to see
her after dinner tonight. But by the time they had headed to the
Lodge for dinner, it was later than usual and she had missed them
completely.

As she ate the mushroom spaghetti, Starr
considered how she was going to contact Charlie. A glimmer of an
idea came as she finished dinner. She piled the silverware on the
now empty plate and stood up.

"Where are you going?" her mother asked
sharply.

"I'm going to put this on the belt and get
some dessert." What Starr didn't mention was that she was going to
use the opportunity to sneak into the kitchen to let Zach Running
Bear know so he could tell Charlie.

"We'll get dessert on the way back home. Sit
down."

Starr sat glumly and waited for her mother to
finish. She knew her mother would never let her get near the
kitchen, even for a second. She'd have to come up with another
plan.

The worst part came after Starr put her tray
on the conveyor belt. She went to the dessert tray and took a
couple of brownies. Then she saw the lemon tarts. She loved the way
they made them here. The crust was so light and flaky that it
melted when she ate it and the filling was so lemony it made her
pucker. It was one of her favorite things. But as she reached for
one, her mother slapped her hand.

"Two brownies is enough. Leave it."

"But I'll eat it," Starr protested. "It won't
go to waste."

Her mother leaned down until her lips were
practically touching Starr's ear, making sure the people at a
nearby table wouldn't hear. "You're lucky you get any dessert at
all tonight," she hissed. "So leave it or you won't get any. Is
that what you want?"

Starr shook her head and pulled her hand
back. She watched as her mother wrapped the brownies in a napkin
and tucked them in her bag. She wondered if she'd actually see them
again, either.

She followed her mother down the hall. When
they reached the lobby, Starr expected her mother to hand her the
brownies and tell her to go straight home. She figured she could
make a quick detour to the gazebo to see Charlie first, but that
hope died as quickly as the aborted trip to the kitchen.

"You don't have to walk me back," Starr said
as they got outside. "I'll go straight home."

"Somehow I don't believe that," her mother
said and stalked down the path to the cabin.

Following the kid and her mother back to the
cabin turned out to be easier than Fowler had anticipated. They got
up just as he was finishing dinner and he reached the front steps
of the Lodge just as they went around a bend in the trees and he
simply followed.

They were just far enough ahead that they
didn't notice him, but he suspected they wouldn't anyway from the
way the mother was marching along like her shoes were on fire. She
was going so fast, the kid had to trot to keep up. They didn't look
around or waste any time on the way and Fowler figured they were
too upset to notice something as minor as being tailed.

He grinned. The mother was making his job so
easy. It was still so light they could easily have seen him if they
hadn't been so preoccupied.

After a few minutes, they stepped up onto the
porch of a cabin with some kind of blue knit thing with feathers
and beads hanging on the porch. Fowler watched from behind a pine
tree as they went in. He noticed how the blue yarn and feathers
stood out from the dark wood of the cabin. It would be easy to find
this place after dark if he had to.

Looking around, he spotted a good place a
little further down the path where he could watch and he stepped
into the ring of trees, hoping he wouldn't be eaten alive while he
was waiting. Once they were out of the cabin, he could get his
hands on the film and destroy it.

When they got to the cabin, her mother made
her go straight to her room.

"I expect you to stay here," she said when
Starr sat on the bed. "And I'll be checking on you when I get back.
You'll go to breakfast with me in the morning and then come right
back here. I don't want you going anywhere or talking to anyone. Do
you understand me?"

"Can't I at least tell Charlie I can't see
her tonight?" Starr pleaded.

"No. I don't trust you not to get into more
trouble."

"But she's expecting me."

"I don't care."

"I promise I won't talk to anyone else and
won't say anything about what I saw."

"Absolutely not. Your promises don't mean a
damn thing and you know it. You promised to be good if I brought
you with me before we came here." She raked her fingers through her
hair and snorted. "We've barely been here a month and already the
sheriff has come by. Jesus! If the owners find out, I'll be out of
a job again."

Starr hung her head. The last thing she had
wanted was to cause trouble. Starr had liked the way her mother had
finally seemed to be happy and the way she was relaxing a little.
Her mother would never be laid back. But it had been nice to see
her smile a lot more and Starr had liked the way her mother didn't
look so worried any more. She knew her mother liked it here as much
as she did. "I'm sorry."

"Yeah, right." Her mother turned away.

"Mom."

She stopped, but didn't look at Starr.

"Please just let me tell Charlie. I promise
I'll come right back. I won't say anything to anyone else. Honest.
And I'll never mention what I saw ever again."

Her mother didn't move and Starr knew she was
considering it. Starr crossed her fingers.

"I don't trust you," her mother said
finally.

"But Charlie will think I stood her up."

"You won't be seeing her again anyway," her
mother said. "You won't be seeing or talking to anyone until your
grandparents can take you and that's the end of it." She stepped
into the hallway and closed the door.

Starr bit down on her upper lip. Hard. She
was
not
going to cry. She
wasn't
. She absolutely
refused to. But the tears threatened anyway.

It wasn't fair.
She hadn't done
anything wrong. But everyone was acting like she was the criminal
instead of that Mr. Fowler. She was so mad she felt like screaming,
but held that inside, too.

As Jessica walked through the dining room to
make sure everything was running perfectly, she noticed the blonde
woman at the table by the window. Smiling, she went over.

"Hi, Mrs. Fowler," she said as she reached
the table.

The woman continued staring out the window as
if Jessica wasn't even there.

"Mrs. Fowler?"

The woman turned suddenly and Jessica had a
moment of horror when she saw the woman and thought she had gotten
the wrong woman. Then the impression was gone.

"Yes?"

"We chatted the other day about the
earrings?"

"Oh. Yes. Sorry. My mind was a million miles
away."

Jessica smiled uncertainly. Something felt
terribly wrong. Maybe she had had a tiff with her new husband, but
Jessica wasn't about to ask. It was none of her business.

"Did you have a chance to check out that
store in Ruby Cove I told you about? Jan's Rock Shop?"

"Oh. No, not yet."

The woman's smile was perfunctory and Jessica
fervently wished she hadn't mentioned it. It was just that Mrs.
Fowler had been so friendly the other day. It had given Jessica the
impression that the woman was truly interested in the earrings.

"Well, I was there this morning and saw a
pair of earrings that I think you'd like. I had Jan put them aside
for you. Just give her my name and she'll take care of you."

"Oh. Thanks. I appreciate it. I'll stop by
tomorrow."

But Mrs. Fowler's voice said the opposite and
Jessica was taken aback by the complete lack of interest.

"Was there anything else?" she asked as
Jessica stood there, too dumfounded to move.

"Ah, no. That was it. I just wanted to tell
you about them. I'll let you get back to your dessert."

Jessica backed away and finished her round of
the dining room, her mind still on the bizarre encounter. It was as
if Mrs. Fowler was a completely different woman. Maybe it was the
husband, she thought. Still…. Something about the woman bothered
her as she returned to the front desk. She couldn't put her finger
on it, but it almost felt as if she was a total stranger.

Jessica wondered if the visit from the
sheriff had had anything to do with it. She knew he had spoken to
them in the bar because she had been at the desk when he arrived
and later the bartender had mentioned it. It was so out of the
ordinary that everyone at the Lodge was talking about it. So maybe
that's why she was so unfriendly just now.

Whatever the story, it nagged at Jessica the
rest of the evening.

Fowler stood in the shadows and watched.

There was still some light left in the sky,
but little reached through the thick growth of trees where he was
standing. Here the trees eclipsed the sky and their shadows were
stretched long by the setting sun, turning everything shades of
dark and darker. The light from the parking area was just far
enough away that little illumination reached this area, so he was
confident he would be unobserved. Some small creature scurried
about in the underbrush and he could smell the faint scent of wood
smoke from some fool's campfire.

His vantage point gave him a perfect view of
what had to be the kid's bedroom. He saw the mother standing in the
doorway, the lines in her face tight and rigid as she went on about
something for the longest time. Then finally she moved away.

For awhile nothing moved, then a few minutes
later he saw her come out and walk back towards the Lodge. When he
looked back at the cabin, he caught glimpses of the kid
interspersed with the jagged dance of her shadow as she moved
around the room.

Come on, he urged silently.

It occurred to him that she might be staying
in for the night. While that presented other problems, he pushed
the thought away. He'd deal with that if it happened.

Starr only waited a few minutes before she
opened her bedroom door. She heard the front door lock click shut
and then she grabbed her backpack and then dashed into the kitchen.
The brownies were on the table and she wrapped them in a paper
towel and put them in her backpack. Then she got the bug spray and
made sure she covered her face and arms and neck.

She was about to leave, then reconsidered,
went back into her room and grabbed a long-sleeved shirt from the
closet and stuffed that into her backpack, along with the bug
spray. It was still warm and humid, but it might come in handy.