Love and Suspicion Page 19

  TIFFANY COULDN’T SLEEP. After a fun evening with Ben and his mother, she got home too late to work on the bank statements. Yet, something was keeping her awake. It could be a change in the weather, she supposed, but whatever it was, her eyes were wide open and her mind was swirling with all the things she’d heard over the past few days.

  It was definitely time to do something about it.

  HOME AND READY TO LOOK through the case files for the three names Millie’s father wrote on the napkin, Rod went to the kitchen and looked at the cold pot of coffee from the morning before. As usually, most of it was wasted. “I need one of those single serving machines.” Instead, he grabbed a soda out of the refrigerator, set it on the table, and began to search the files. Rod passed over the ones he had already read several times, and started on the tips, letters, and newspaper articles.

  When his phone rang, he looked at the clock and was surprised to learn it was after two in the morning. He didn’t recognize the number and couldn’t imagine who might be calling that late.

  “Rod Keller.”

  “It’s Tiffany Clark. I hope I didn’t wake you.”

  “Is something wrong?”

  “No, well maybe, but I am not hurt if that’s what you mean. I got your number off the card you left for Mariam. Hope you don’t mind.”

  “Not at all.”

  “It’s about the kidnapping. I overheard two ladies talking at the picnic. One used to deliver mail and she said Shelley Woodbury’s car was often parked at an office in Bloomfield. Although she only saw Shelley once, she recognized the car as the Mustang convertible Earl bought Shelley right after they married.”

  When she hesitated, he said, “Go on.”

  “Well, this is just a guess, but I was thinking that’s where she went instead of taking long rides like she told Mariam.”

  “That makes sense.”

  “There’s more too, a lot more. I’ve been doing a little research for Earl. Remember Charles Hadley, the mysterious man Mariam talked about?”

  “I remember,” said Rod as he jotted down what Tiffany was telling him.

  She giggled, “Of course you do. Anyway, Shelley donated large amounts of money to the Charles Hadley Foundation. I’ve looked for him and his foundation online, but the foundation either doesn’t exist anymore or never did. You’d be amazed at how many Charles Hadley’s there are in the world.”

  “How do you know all this?”

  “Oh, Earl gave me Shelley’s old bank statements and asked me to see what I could find out. He doesn’t know how to use a computer and thought I might be able to help, but I’ve hit a brick wall where Hadley is concerned. There are checks to another man too, at least I think it’s a man, but I haven’t looked for him, and then I’m hoping to find out where she worked in Bloomfield. But I need to know how old she was so I can eliminate any other woman named Shelley Bayliss.”

  “Earl talks to you?”

  “Isn’t it amazing? I haven’t told anyone and I hope you don’t either. I didn’t exactly ask him if it was all right to tell you. It’s late, you know, and he’s sleeping.”

  “I won’t say a word. Do you think he’ll talk to me?”

  “Maybe. He knows you’re asking questions. Michael was here this morning making sure Earl wasn’t upset, but if you ask me, it’s Michael who’s upset.”

  “Anything else?”

  “Well maybe, but it’s just a rumor.”

  “What?”

  “Mariam might have been drinking that night and fell asleep or passed out. If so, that’s why she didn’t hear anything and didn’t have a book out. I think that might be what she’s trying to hide.”

  “So you think Shelley’s maiden name was Bayliss?”

  “That’s the name on the bank statements before she married Earl. She had nearly fifty-thousand left when she died too. Nothing after, no deposits or withdrawals.”

  Rod finished writing in his notes. “You’re up kind of late.”

  “That’s for sure, but I don’t go to work tomorrow until noon. Of course, there’s lots of speculation around town. Ben’s mom thinks Mrs. Woodbury might have let someone in that night. Earl worked a lot, you know.”

  “Anything else?”

  “Not that I can think of.”

  “Tiffany, will you let me know what you hear, even if it seems unimportant?”

  “I will, but I need a favor in return.”

  “Which is?”

  “Don’t tell my dad I’m helping you.”

  “Who’s your dad?”

  “He’s a detective in Rhode Island. If he knew, he’d be here in a flash.”

  “You think he’ll call?”

  Tiffany gasped. “You mean he hasn’t already? Wow, maybe he’s letting me be independent after all. Well, good night Mr. Deputy.”

  “Good night, Tiffany.”

  Rod downed the last of his forgotten soda and took a deep breath. Finally, he was making some headway. What Tiffany said certainly shed a new light on Mariam Eggleston. He wondered if Earl knew she was a drunk. That might explain why he let her go and hired Beverly. People who drink think they hide it well, but they never do.

  Next, he underlined the Charles Hadley Foundation. Foundations were set up as a core company, and often branched out in a dozen different directions. The branches could hide a number of shady and fraudulent activities, some of which the FBI might have been investigating. Of course, it could be a legitimate foundation too, and act as a charity or host a research study of some kind. Yet, somehow, Rod didn’t think Mrs. Woodbury was the charity or research study sort, but then he still knew very little about her.

  His initial thought concerning Charles Hadley was that he was supplying Mrs. Woodbury with the drugs that eventually killed her. Hadley still could have been her drug connection, but according to Tiffany, Shelley was giving Hadley a lot more than the price of a few ‘feel good’ drugs.

  Rod hoped that Earl would soon talk to him, or at least let him have a look at the bank statements. He set that thought aside and picked up the folder with the newspaper articles in it. Instead of sitting at the table, he moved to a more comfortable chair in his small living room.

  There was an envelope with a cassette tape inside from one of the major TV networks reporting on the case. Unfortunately, Rod didn’t have a cassette player, but he doubted there was anything new on it. He set that aside and went through the news articles one by one. Most were papers out of Des Moines, but some were from as far away as Utah. There were three that marked the first, second and third anniversary of the kidnapping, but nothing after that.

  Not one article mentioned a Charles Hadley Foundation or any foundation at all, nor did they mention her maiden name. Who was Shelley Bayliss Woodbury? Where did she come from, why did Earl marry her, and if she didn’t kill herself, who murdered her?

  CHAPTER 9

  IN THE DARKNESS OF an otherwise peaceful and quiet night, Birdie was awakened by the sound of a baby crying. Abruptly wide awake, she sat up in bed and listened but the crying stopped. At length, she lay back down and turned on her side with her back to the man lying beside her.

  Michael was wide awake too. “Nightmare?” he asked. The bruises from his fist fight with Jerry were not quite healed.

  She didn’t answer.

  “The crying baby again?”

  “Go to sleep, Michael.”

  “Don’t get all touchy, I’m only trying to...”

  She finally turned to face him. “I never should have listened to you.”

  “Birdie, it was years ago. We were just kids, and...”

  “We knew better, even then. How many lives have we screwed up so far? Ten, fifteen? And that’s not even counting Earl’s.”

  “You miss your daughter; I miss her too.”

  Birdie threw the covers off, got out of bed, and turned to face him. “You miss her?” she scoffed. “Oh, Now I’ve heard everything!”

  He rose up to a sitting position. “Are you going to hold that
against me for the rest of my life? I messed up, okay?”

  “You messed up?” she spat. “You make it sound like it was no worse than losing a football game. Messed up is not what I call leaving a trail of broken lives in your wake. I call it unforgivable selfishness. Go home Michael. Better yet, got back to Jolie if she’ll still have you, and don’t ever come here again.”

  “You don’t mean that. You can’t live without me.”

  “The whole world would have been better off without you, especially me!”

  He tried to laugh it off and laid back down. In her fury, she grabbed her robe and put it on. “Get out, Michael!”

  “Come back to bed, Birdie. You know you’ll be over this by morning.”

  She went to her desk, pulled a drawer out, reached inside, and then turned around. In her hand she held a loaded pistol. She pulled the hammer back and pointed it right at him. “I’ll shoot you Michael, I swear I will. I should have shot you years ago. The state prison would have been better than the one I’ve been in all these years.”

  At last, he got out of bed and put his pants on. “Call me when you come to your senses.” Michael grabbed his shirt and shoes, and then fled out the door.

  “Don’t hold your breath,” she said. He’d been gone several minutes before she finally sat down on the bed. The gun was still in her hand, and as she had more times than she could count, she raised it to her temple and closed her eyes.

  At length, she opened her eyes again. “Not just yet, Birdie old girl, not just yet.”

  ALEX WOODBURY WAS BACK. He marched into the bookstore, walked up to Tiffany and laid two tickets on the counter in front of her.

  “And these are for?” Tiffany asked.

  “Our escape,” he answered.

  “I don’t need to escape.”

  “Not even to go to an arena and listen to the best music Iowa has heard in ages. Say yes, Tiffany, I had to drive to Des Moines to get them and these are the last two tickets.”

  She picked up the tickets and tried not to, but smiled anyway. “The Oregon Tenors?”

  “You’re pleased, I see. I thought you might like them. They’re playing at the arena tonight and I know it’s short notice, but this is the last night.”

  She batted her eyes, “But I haven’t a thing to wear.”

  “It’s not formal, you know. Just throw something on. I’ll pick you up at six. The concert starts at eight-thirty and...”

  “I have to work until seven.” She tipped her head to one side and tried to look vastly disappointed. “What a pity. Maybe another time.” Tiffany left him standing at the counter and went to put a book away. She heard him click his tongue on the top of his mouth in disgust, walk out, and let the door slam behind him. “Poor guy doesn’t take rejection well,” she said.

  AS SOON AS SHE GOT home, Tiffany hurried upstairs and opened her laptop. She checked and the arena was still selling cheap tickets in the back rows. “Can’t bluff an old bluffer, Alex Woodbury,” she muttered. She closed her laptop and then went downstairs to have a late dinner with Earl and Beverly.

  “I talked to the deputy last night.” She boldly announced as she sat down and unfolded her napkin.

  What did he say?” Earl asked.

  “He’s a good cop and didn’t give me any information at all. They are trained not to, you know. He didn’t know about the foundation, and now that he does, I think he’ll try to find out.” Tiffany helped herself to a spoonful of peas and then passed the bowl to Earl. “He wants to know if you’ll talk to him.”

  “Not yet,” said Earl. “It’s not time.”

  “I understand. I hope you don’t mind if I help him. I keep coming up empty and maybe the two of us can figure this out together.” Tiffany continued to take a helping of potatoes and then a pork chop. “At the picnic, I heard something I think you should know.”

  “What?” Beverly asked.

  “Tiffany told them about the postal worker and seeing Shelley’s car parked in front of an office.” When she looked, Earl’s brow was wrinkled. “You didn’t know she had a job?”

  “I can’t imagine why she needed one. I could certainly afford anything she needed or wanted,” said Earl.

  “Well, maybe she got bored,” Tiffany suggested. “Some people work just to keep from getting...”

  “Then why didn’t she tell me?” Earl asked. “I wouldn’t have objected.”

  Neither Beverly or Tiffany had an answer to that one.

  Tiffany tasted her mashed potatoes and then started to cut her pork chop. “Nora Coulter said she heard Shelley had people over late at night. Did she?”

  Earl answered, “Once or twice that I know of, but I wouldn’t say often. But then, I wasn’t aware of a lot of things she did until after she died. This is a big house with four outside doors. Anything is possible. I remember waking up one night and hearing Shelley talking to someone downstairs, but I assumed it was Mariam.”

  Tiffany decided to start asking more probing questions. “How old was Shelley?”

  Earl answered, “Thirty-two, she said, but I suspected she was older than that. It didn’t matter at the time. Does it now?”

  “Only if it helps me eliminate people younger than her when I search the internet.”

  “I see,” said Earl.

  He didn’t seem to be bothered by her questions, so Tiffany asked what she thought was the most important one. “Do you think she gave her baby to someone intentionally?”

  Earl stared at his full plate for a long moment. “I hope that’s what she did.” He chose his next words carefully. “Next time you call the deputy, tell him when I got to the crib, Tiffany’s bottle was still warm.”

  Beverly gasped. “She’d just been fed?”

  “What other explanation could there be?” Earl asked.

  “Then...if Mariam didn’t feed her, and you didn’t...” Tiffany started.

  There was anger in her voice when Beverly said, “Shelley did. The whole thing was a setup!” she slumped in her chair and let her fork drop in her plate. Earl reached over and touched Beverly’s hand to comfort her, but it didn’t help much. “You knew, all this time?” she asked him. “How...”

  “Did you ask Shelley about it?” Tiffany interrupted.

  Earl let go of Beverly’s hand. “I knew Shelley loved her baby, and I was so certain once they had the ransom, we would get the baby back safe and sound. By the time I realized I was wrong, Shelley was dead. I remember staring at her body in the garden, knowing she was the only one who could tell us who had the baby – the only one, and she was dead.”

  This time it was Beverly who put a comforting hand on Earl’s arm. “I can’t imagine what that was like for you.”

  “Wow,” said Tiffany, “If she did it for the money, she was the most callous and cold human being I’ve ever heard of. But why? She had her own money and yours if she needed it. Why the elaborate ruse to get more?”

  “She didn’t have a million dollars,” Earl said, “and after that, neither did I.”

  It sounded a little like Earl’s first attempt at humor, but Tiffany wasn’t sure she should laugh until he finally smiled. She watched him take a bite of his pork chop. “So the answer is to find out who Shelley trusted enough to simply hand her baby over to and my money is on that Hadley guy.”

  IT WAS SUPPOSED TO be his day off, but the new man Otis hired to take Wayne Griffin’s place was due to arrive in the afternoon, and the sheriff wanted Rod to show him the route. Rod didn’t mind. Other than spending more time on the case, he didn’t have a lot to do until time to play cards with Nancy, Ben, and Tiffany.

  As they rode together in the cruiser, Rod soon discovered that Calix Cobb was not exactly the chatty sort. In fact, getting him to answer questions produced only the minimum of information. The new guy was from Kentucky, single, liked fishing, and that was the extend of it. Calix had red hair, green eyes, was a little overweight, yet was clean and looked good in his uniform.

  Rod turned onto the front
age road and headed west to show Calix were the county line was. “A word of caution,” he said. “There’s an old man in town wearing a cowboy hat and boots. I made the mistake of arresting him for vagrancy when I first started, only to find out he’s the richest guy in town.”

  Calix chuckled. “He have any daughters?”

  That was the last question Rod expected to hear and suddenly he wasn’t in the mood to explain. The new deputy would hear about it soon enough. For the next couple of hours, he mentioned points of interest such as the new middle school, the lake and even the best place to get a car repaired. Other than that, he said little and neither did Deputy Calix Cobb.

  After Rod dropped off the cruiser, the keys and Calix at the office, he got in his car and drove out to the lake for a little peace and quiet. He parked and was about to get out when he noticed another car pull up behind him. “Some cop I am,” he muttered. “I need to pay more attention.” He stayed seated, watched in his rearview mirror and was relieved when a woman got out. Just in case, he opened the door and looked back to make sure she wasn’t carrying a weapon. Then he got out and turned to face her. “Do you need help?” he asked.

  “No,” she answered, “well, yes I suppose I do. I’ve been carrying this burden nearly nineteen years, and I can bear it no longer.”

  Rod motioned to one of the picnic tables. “Would you like to sit down?”

  “No, I’ll stand.” Instead, she walked to the table and sat down anyway.

  Rod followed but chose not to sit. “What burden do you carry, Mrs.?”

  “Samantha Worthington,” she said, “but you can call me Sam. Mariam is the only one who calls me Samantha.”

  “Okay, Sam, want to tell me what’s troubled you all these years?”

  “Well, you see I can’t remember if I told Birdie or not, and she’s never been as good at keeping a secret as Mariam thinks, so I figured I might as well tell you before Birdie does.”