Whispering winds widows, p.5
Whispering Winds Widows, page 5
“You going to take their order or wag your tongue?”
Reyna shifted her attention to the woman who now stood behind McGill. She had the same gray hair as the owner, but it was twisted high on her head in a bun. The name tag pinned to her uniform said Vinnia. His wife. Reyna recognized the name.
“Ben’ll take the cheeseburger plate,” McGill said. “With a glass of water.”
Ben nodded. Obviously the man knew his preferred lunch.
“The lady...” McGill turned to Reyna.
“Will take the same,” she filled in for him. “Reyna Hart,” she added for Ms. McGill’s benefit.
“I’d ask what brings you to our town,” Vinnia said as she scratched the orders onto her notepad, “but I couldn’t help overhearing the subject of the conversation.”
Reyna doubted that was the case since the diner was busy and hummed with conversation in addition to the soft music from a local radio station playing from the speakers. Most of the customers were crowded around the counter and spread around the diner far enough away from the booth Ben had chosen to give them some amount of privacy. If Vinnia had overheard anything it was because she’d made the extra effort.
“We’d love to hear your thoughts as well,” Reyna offered.
“I don’t imagine Ben would care for my thoughts,” the older woman said with a glance in his direction. “He knows how I feel about his mama.”
Ben mustered up a smile—a charming one in spite of the woman’s attitude. Reyna was impressed.
“I also know the feeling is mutual on my mother’s side.”
Vinnia shot Reyna a look. “You see, that’s why we’ll never have the whole story on what happened. Those Widows are keeping it to themselves. Whatever you hope to find, Ms. Hart, I’d start with Lucinda Kane. She’s the one who started it all.”
Before Reyna could respond, the lady twisted around and hurried away.
Ben said nothing. McGill’s face had gone red.
“You’ll have to overlook my wife,” he said. “She has a sore spot where your mama is concerned, Ben. That’s not news to you.”
“No, sir,” he agreed. “It is not.”
McGill pushed back his chair and stood. “You two enjoy your lunch, and if I can help in any way, just let me know.”
He returned the borrowed chair and disappeared behind the counter.
Reyna gave Ben a minute to comment. When he didn’t, she asked, “You want to tell me about it?”
“My mother was engaged to Vinnia’s younger brother before she married my father.”
Now, there was a detail Reyna hadn’t heard. “So there was bad blood between your father and Vinnia’s brother?”
“Gordon Walls. He’s a Hamilton County sheriff’s deputy. There was bad blood, yes. But that was eight years before the disappearance. There hadn’t been any trouble during my parents’ marriage.”
The other man’s occupation cued up a whole other line of questioning. “Was Gordon Walls a deputy back then—during the time of the breakup with your mother?”
“He was in the Army. They were supposed to get married when he came back from training, but she married my father before that happened. Walls did his time in the military, then joined the sheriff’s department.”
“How long was he in the military?” Reyna’s instincts were buzzing. She couldn’t believe she’d missed this aspect of the story—if it had come up during the numerous investigations. She was certain it hadn’t been part of anything she’d read.
“Six years.”
Reyna added the information to her mental files and moved on. “Where is Gordon Walls now?”
“He married. Had a family. He and his wife live in Chattanooga.”
“What are the chances I can get that interview with your mother today?” Reyna was itching to do some looking into this new aspect of the story and then to approach Lucinda Kane about it.
“I’ll talk to her after we’re finished here.” He glanced at the woman behind the counter, who quickly looked away. Vinnia had been watching them since she’d taken their order. “But I’ll need to speak with her alone first.”
“I understand. I have other names to follow up on.”
He held her gaze for a long moment before saying more. “I wonder if finding the truth will actually give anyone peace.”
Reyna wished she could assure him it would. But it might not. It might create more pain and more questions. But if he wanted to know, now was the time. The window of opportunity was closing. The players, and even the bystanders, from thirty years ago were getting older. Many were already gone.
Before long, there would be no one left who might actually know the answers or may have witnessed something relevant. Better to ask now than wish he had later.
Owens Residence
Rushing Stream Hollow
1:30 p.m.
RETIRED SHERIFF’S DEPUTY Nelson Owens had been sitting in a rocking chair on his front porch when Reyna had arrived. He had invited her to have a seat in the matching rocking chair. His home was a rustic cabin, well off the road and surrounded by thick woods. He kept a shotgun propped against the railing on the other side of his rocking chair.
She supposed there were all manner of wildlife in those woods. Having a shotgun nearby was likely a good idea. At his age, seventy-one, he probably had no desire to try outrunning a bear or any other predator. Better to scare them off.
He’d offered her a beer, but she’d declined. He’d had several already. Emptied and crushed cans lay in the corner, a few feet from where he sat. Whether this was his daily ritual or just the way he’d braced for her visit, she didn’t know. As much as she would like to video all her interviews, she had found that the request generally put people off. So, she didn’t take the risk. Better to take notes during or immediately after.
“We never found anything,” he said in answer to her question. “It was really strange, if you ask me. Tarrence Norwood, he was the sheriff at the time—a good one, at that—he really tried to find answers. It just never happened.”
“Everything I’ve read says there was no evidence found. No motives for anyone having wanted one or all three of the men gone,” she said, recalling the words of the then sheriff. The few television interviews she had seen had shown a deeply, deeply disappointed man for having not been able to solve the case.
Owens shook his head. “It was the strangest thing. You know, usually you find something, hear a rumor or what have you. But we got nothing. Zero. It was like they just vanished. An alien abduction.”
There had been plenty of speculation on that one over the years.
“You didn’t find anything or hear anything from anyone you interviewed that prompted you to form any sort of scenario? Sometimes we don’t have evidence, but we have ideas,” she suggested.
He popped the top on another can, took a long swallow. “It’s been thirty years,” he said. “A lot of people have moved away. Others have died. And no one has ever figured out what the heck happened.” Another swallow of beer. “But I’m gonna tell you something I’ve never told anyone before.”
Reyna held her breath, hoped this was a true lead.
“I think the Widows know exactly what happened.” He shrugged. “Heck, they might even have killed them. Seems strange to me that they still stick together after all this time and they never remarried or moved or anything else.” He frowned at Reyna. “Don’t you find that weird?”
“We all have our own way of grieving. Maybe theirs was to do exactly as they’ve done.”
Another shrug. “Maybe. Just seems strange to me. Truth be told, most people around town think they’re a little on the odd side.”
“Why do you think they know what happened?”
“The next day after they disappeared,” he explained, “the first call came from Lucinda Kane. She said she was worried because her husband never came home. We went out to see her, and she was so calm. It was like she was saying all the right words. That she was worried and that he’d never done this before...but she didn’t seem worried or upset. She was just, you know, normal.”
Reyna wondered if Ben was aware of his mother’s behavior during the interview. “Perhaps she was in shock.”
“Why? At that point we didn’t know they weren’t coming back. You’d think she would have been worried about an accident or something. She never went out looking for him. Nothing. Most people would have been driving around or calling people, you know.”
“Are you sure she didn’t?” Reyna certainly wanted his thoughts on the matter, but it was difficult to tell whether this was an opinion based on what had been happening or his perception of what should have been happening.
“We asked if she’d called the local hospitals or friends or looked for him at all, and she just said no. Not one additional detail. Just no.”
The reaction was a little odd, she supposed. “When did the next call come in?”
“While we were interviewing Lucinda, Harlowe Evans called, all freaked out. Now, she had been out driving around. She’d called all the hospitals, driven out to the Henry place and called the other wives. That was the reaction you’d expect.”
Reasonable point. “What about Ms. Fuller? When did her call come in?”
“Now, that’s the really strange one.” He opened another can of beer. “She didn’t call. We went to her place and asked if her husband had been home. She said no, and then we asked her if that was out of the ordinary for him to leave and not come back. She just shook her head, said she didn’t know what was going on.”
“Did you or Sheriff Norwood have any reason to believe one or more of the wives were lying?”
He considered the question through two more deep slugs of beer. Then he said, “I always thought there was something Dede Fuller wasn’t telling. Deidre,” he clarified. “Most everyone calls her Dede. Anyway, she just didn’t act right through any of it. She seemed zoned out or something. Maybe shock like you said, but I don’t know. The truth is it was all just weird. All of it.”
“Looking back,” Reyna said, “is there anything you would do differently?”
Another extended consideration. “If I could go back, I’d watch those women day and night. I’d push them harder until one of them cracked.”
Interesting answer, Reyna decided. “You’re that certain that at least one of them was and still is hiding something.”
He looked directly at her then. “I would bet my life on it. If you want to know what happened, that’s where you’ll find the answer.”
He had little else to say after that. Reyna left one of her cards with him and urged him to call if he thought of anything else that might be helpful to her research.
As she drove away, she considered that he was likely right about the Widows, and she had every intention of finding whatever any of them was hiding.
Kane Residence
Thistle Lane
1:50 p.m.
BEN SAT ON the front steps of his childhood home for a while. His mother was inside and no doubt had noticed his arrival. She hadn’t come to the door and wouldn’t until he rang the bell.
She wasn’t happy about his decision to stay in Whispering Winds. She’d been happier when he’d been in the city, focused on building his career. She wanted him to get married and have grandchildren for her to enjoy.
She wanted him to never look back.
Not such an easy task, all things considered.
With a heavy breath, he got up, crossed the porch and knocked on the door. Putting it off any longer wouldn’t make it any easier.
She opened the door after his first knock. Oh, yeah, she’d been standing there watching and waiting. Didn’t seem right that they had to have this standoff about his being back in Whispering Winds or the past.
She should want to know the whole truth. Maybe if he’d pushed harder when he’d been younger. He shook off the idea. Wouldn’t have mattered even then. She had not wanted to discuss it. She had wanted to move on and pretend it was not relevant to the future.
A wide smile spread across Lucinda Kane’s face. Even as she headed toward sixty, she was still a beautiful woman who liked taking care of herself, who liked looking nice. Not a single strand of gray was allowed to survive in her dark mane. Her eyes and hair were the only features he’d gotten from her. Folks said he looked exactly like his daddy except for his mama’s blue eyes and black hair.
“What’re you up to, Ben?” She opened the door wide and gestured for him to come on in. “You’re usually busy with work this time of the afternoon.”
He stepped inside, waited for her to close the door. “We need to have a conversation about...things.”
Her smile faded instantly. “Have you had lunch? I made a fresh pitcher of iced tea, if you’re thirsty.”
“No, ma’am,” he said. “I’d just like to talk.”
She inclined her head and gave him that look that said she so, so did not want to go there. “You know I don’t like talking about the past. It’s too hard. I don’t know why no one seems to understand how difficult those years were for me. Shouldn’t I be allowed my peace?”
“I know you don’t,” Ben agreed. “But I need you to do it anyway. And I need you to understand that I’m not backing off this time. I’m sticking with this until I have the answers.”
She drew in a big breath. “Well, in that case, I need a drink.”
Lucinda Kane had never been much of a drinker. Not even socially. But whenever the subject of her missing—presumed dead—husband came up, she wanted a drink. He supposed he couldn’t blame her.
He followed her to the parlor, where she poured a shot of Jack Daniel’s into a glass, drank it down and then settled into her favorite chair—the pink one with the rose-colored throw lying across one arm. Growing up, his friends had often ribbed him about all the pink in the house. But his mother loved pink and she loved roses. What was a boy to do?
When he would have kicked off the conversation, she held up a hand. “Don’t tell me where to start. Believe me, I know. At the beginning.”
He said nothing, just waited. He’d learned from experience that it was best to allow her to do this her own way or she wouldn’t do it at all.
She folded her hands in her lap, closed her eyes as if sifting through memories only she could see. “It was a Saturday, October first. There was a new Halloween thing opening that weekend. A corn maze. Something scary that all your friends wanted to do. Your daddy said I should take you because he had to work over at the Henry place and then, of course, he had that silly card game.”
Ben’s father and his friends, Duke Fuller and Judson Evans, had played cards together since their college days. Twice a month. The games had moved to the old Henry place after the Fullers had bought it. As long as it had been under renovation and unoccupied, the men had had privacy. All three Widows had given the same statement about the reason their husbands had been at the house at the time of their disappearance. But the card table hadn’t been set up. No cigars or glasses were around, as there usually would have been. None of the Three had smoked except when they’d played cards; then they’d puffed on cigars and drank whiskey.
“Dad never had any trouble with the others? I mean, surely at some point during their lives they’d had a falling-out.”
“Nothing I know about,” she said. “No one else could recall any issues either. But then, I suppose there were little things that no one ever heard about.”
She wasn’t going to like this one. “Gordon Walls couldn’t have come back for revenge?”
Surprise flashed across her face. “What?”
“Gordon Walls. The two of you were engaged when he left for the Army. Then you met Dad, and when Gordon came back you were married to him. That couldn’t have gone well.”
Her glance at the old-fashioned bar cabinet that had stood next to the parlor’s French doors for as long as he could remember warned she wished for a second drink.
“No.” She fixed her attention on him. “It did not.” She took a breath. “I’m going to tell you this once, and then I will never speak of it again.”
This was a new tactic. “Okay.”
“Gordon was gone for a long time. I was lonely.” She shook her head. “I was young. For goodness’ sake, I was barely twenty years old. I didn’t mean to get involved with your father, but it happened. He and your grandfather came to my parents’ house to repair something or the other. I don’t even recall what.” A smile tugged at her lips even when she obviously did not want to smile. “He was so handsome. I ran into him again at the county fair, and we walked around together. Rode a few rides. Shared some very innocent kisses.”
Her eyes closed as if the rest were too difficult to look at. When she opened them once more, there was a shine of emotion that told Ben he’d been right. This was hard for her, and he regretted that it was necessary.
“We started sneaking around, and—” she looked straight into Ben’s eyes “—as you are well aware, I found out I was pregnant with you, and so we got married.”
“Did you want to get married?”
Her mouth rounded in shock. “Well, of course we wanted to get married. We just hadn’t expected to start with being parents first. But,” she said firmly, “I was thrilled when you were born, and I have never once regretted it.”
“You’re certain my father and Walls never fought about this? No harbored resentment or any bitterness?”
“I’m certain there were exchanges between them,” she confessed, “but your father never discussed those with me. He and Gordon handled things very discreetly. I’m confident Gordon didn’t want to be humiliated any more than he already had been. It was better to work things out quietly. He was away with his commitment to the military for several years after that anyway. When he came back, it was ancient history.”
