Love and Suspicion Page 23

  WHEN ROD RETURNED TO the office, he was pleased to find Otis still there. “How’s the new guy doing?” he asked as he sat in the chair opposite the sheriff’s desk.

  “He sure is the quiet type, isn’t he? Not a peep out of him all afternoon. Oh, he checked in with Millie like he should, but I don’t think I’ve heard him say more than ten words since he got here.” Otis reached in his drawer, tossed Rod a candy bar, broke off a piece of another for himself, and plopped it in his mouth. “Don’t tell Millie, okay?”

  “I won’t.”

  “What’d Fagan have to say.”

  “Charles Hadley?”

  Otis abruptly stopped chewing. At length, he finished eating the candy and swallowed. “The guy Mariam saw at the house before the kidnapping?”

  “That’s the one.” Rod handed him the photos and waited while Otis carefully examined them. “Crazy Eddie gave them to Ben, who passed them to me. Mariam positively identified him as Charles Hadley.”

  “Crazy Eddie say where they were when he took the picture?”

  “I have yet to meet him. Maybe he’ll tell you if he can remember.”

  “Oh, he remembers. He’s good at logging all his pictures in, and he’s possessive as all get out when it comes to them too. You’re lucky you got these two out of him.” Otis handed them back to Rod. “I wish I had known half this much at the time. I might have caught him.”

  “Except Fagan claims Hadley wasn’t the kidnapper.”

  “Is that right? Then we’re right back where we started.” Otis blew out a frustrated breath. “You think Fagan is telling the truth?”

  “I do, for some reason. If he knows about Charles Hadley, he knows more than we do.”

  Otis glanced through his open office door, decided Millie wasn’t going to catch him, and took another bite of his candy bar. “Well, Fagan hung around with Michael a lot, but then all the boys that age did. All the girls wanted to hang around Michael, so all the boys did too. If Michael was behind it, then I’d say, yes, Fagan probably does know.”

  “There isn’t one ounce of proof that Michael or his brother had anything to do with it.”

  “That’s what I thought too. It was Hadley – it had to be.”

  “Except for one thing.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Why would Fagan give us the name of the kidnapper before you agreed to help him get out of prison?”

  “Good point.” Otis said.

  “What would it take to get Fagan out of prison?”

  “Let me work on that. I know just the judge to ask, but Fagan has to tell us all he knows first.”

  “Fair enough,” said Rod. He stood up and put the unopened candy bar on the desk. “A guy always needs one in reserve.”

  Otis smiled, quickly stashed it away in his drawer, and picked up the phone just as Rod left.

  AFTER DINNER, BEVERLY, Earl and Tiffany pored over the pictures of the people at Shelley’s funeral. With a marker, first Earl and then Beverly drew a line across the ones they recognized. After all of them were eliminated, Charles Hadley, whoever he was, simply was not there.

  After the two of them left Beverly to her dishes and drifted into the living room, Earl looked more despondent than he had for as long at Tiffany had known him. “What’s up?” she asked.

  Earl took a deep breath and slowly let it out. “Jason called Beverly. He and Michael have been talking and they think I believe you are my Tiffany.”

  “The kidnapped baby?”

  “Of course I don’t, but they want you to take a DNA test to prove it.”

  Tiffany smiled. No need. Dad had the DNA records made for each of us just in case something happened. You, I mean Beverly can assure your sons, I am not your daughter. I’m a perfect match for both my father and my mother.”

  “I am relieved to hear that. They might not believe her, but...”

  “Would you like me to have my dad call Michael?” Tiffany asked.

  “No. No point in getting your parents mixed up in all this.”

  “Well, I’m willing if you need me to.”

  “Thank you, Tiffany,” Earl said.

  He didn’t look all that happy still. “Something else is bothering you?”

  “Well, yes. I am sad to know they think I am that far gone, but it’s my own fault for not talking to them.”

  “Why did you stop talking?” she had the courage to ask.

  “Guilt, mostly.”

  “Why guilt?”

  “I should have told the sheriff about the warm baby bottle. If I had, he would have forced Shelley to tell us who had taken the baby. That was just another in a long line of bad decisions. I was wrong to pay the ransom and wrong to get involved with Shelley in the first place. I accused Michael of making bad decisions and then didn’t do any better myself. It was just wiser if I stayed out of other people’s lives.”

  “Even the lives of your grandchildren?”

  “Especially my grandchildren. So much might have been different if I hadn’t made Michael marry Pamela.”

  “Don’t beat yourself up too much. Michael could have said no.”

  “I threatened to take him out of my will if he did. He was just a stupid kid at the time.”

  “Like his son,” Tiffany muttered.

  “Alex?”

  “He’s been trying to get me to go out with him, but he’s not my type.”

  Finally, Earl brightened. “Good for you. Is Ben Coulter your type?”

  “Maybe, but I’m not looking to settle down. I’ve got half the country yet to see before I do that.”

  “Well, you can’t go wrong if you decide Ben is the one.”

  “Providing I never have to eat any more of his famous beans.”

  At that, Earl finally laughed. “Don’t you have a date tonight?”

  “I believe I do,” she said quickly starting for the stairs. “He volunteered the two of us to help with the decorations for Deputy Griffin’s going away party. Wish me luck, I normally fall off ladders at such functions.”

  THE DEPUTY’S RETIREMENT party was to be held on the third floor of the building where many a town hall meeting had taken place. It was two floors directly above the Sheriff’s office, and by the time Ben and Tiffany arrived, several others were already there. The decorators included Millie, the sheriff’s wife, and the two part-time deputies. Ben made the introductions and then took Tiffany to the stage. “We get to decorate the stage.” He handed Tiffany a roll of white crepe paper streamers. Just as she feared, he unfolded a step ladder, handed her a roll of scotch tape, and then said, “Start up there.”

  “I can’t.”

  “Why?” he asked.

  “I can only decorate when there is music, and it better be good music, too.” She watched him pull out his phone, choose an album, turn up the volume, and set his phone on a nearby table. “That’s too bad,” she muttered much too softly for him to hear. She took a step up, then another, and waited until she was sure she had her balance. It was too bad his taste in music matched hers. She was still on the hunt to discover his faults, and so far, he had none, which was impossible. He probably snores, she told herself, but then a wife doesn’t find that out until after the wedding. Tiffany giggled and took another step up, “Wedding? What am I saying?”

  “Who’s getting married?” Ben abruptly asked.

  She looked down at him and shrugged. “Most people do eventually.”

  “Even you?”

  “Of course me. I want at least twenty children and an old shoe to live in?”

  “Twenty, have you any idea what it costs...”

  “Yes I do, I come from a very large family. Hand me a roll of pink crepe paper please. If we’re going to do this, we should do it right.”

  “You’re the boss,” he said, “He grabbed one off the table and handed it to her.

  She taped the ends of the pink and white streamers together and then taped both to the wall. Next, she carefully got down, handed the white roll to Ben, and beg
an to loosely wrap the pink one around the white one. She put her finger in the middle of his chest and made him back up. “You could twist yours a little more often.”

  He handed the white roll back to her, wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close to him. “Tiffany?”

  She laughed, and tried to set both rolls of streamers on top of his head. “What?”

  “Too feminine.”

  “Oh.” He was right, and just as she was trying to think how to correct the streamer problem, he kissed her. She tried to get him to let her go before he embarrassed her, but when he wouldn’t, she couldn’t help but give in. After all, a kiss like that one didn’t come along every day.

  “Marry me?” he asked finally.

  “Really? You have an old shoe for me to live in?”

  “Say yes, and I’ll find one.”

  Tiffany tossed her head back, laughed and pulled out of his arms. “My father taught me never to make snap judgements.”

  “Then you’ll think about it?”

  “Constantly,” she promised. She meant it too, and the rest of the evening was spent hanging blue and green streamers, blowing up balloons, decorating tables, and exchanging happy glances with Ben. If that wasn’t love, she hoped never to find out.

  OTIS DID HIS MAGIC and got the judge to agree to Fagan’s terms, so Rod made a second trip to the prison the next day, hoping to get back in time for Wayne’s party. He stowed his things in a locker and then once more walked through the clanging steel doors. He was taken to the same interview room, and waited nearly twenty minutes for the guard to bring Lyndell Fagan in.

  There was a silly grin on his face when Fagan sat down. “You need me, right?”

  “Right,” Rod answered. “The sheriff got a judge to commute your sentence, but he’s not going to sign it until you tell me what you know.”

  Fagan studied Rods eyes for a long moment. “You swear you’re telling the truth?”

  “Do you swear to tell me the truth?”

  Slowly, Fagan smiled. “I like you, and that’s saying a lot.”

  “So, do we have a deal?” Rod pressed.

  “Deal.”

  “Tell me about Hadley?”

  “Well, you can’t find him because he’s in here. Charles Hadley is, or was, Shelley Woodbury’s brother. They had a sweet starving kids racket going until Shelley was murdered, then the FBI got hold of a picture of her, and it matched photographs taken of a woman making certain bank deposits. They put two and two together and wham, he’s locked up in here for twenty-five to life.”

  “So he didn’t take the baby and he didn’t kill his sister?”

  “Kill her? She was his bread and butter. The way he tells it, she could charm people into doing anything she wanted, including donating tons of money to his scam of a charity.”

  Rod found the history lesson interesting, but it still wasn’t what he needed to know. “Okay, so who did kidnap the baby?”

  “Her ex-husband.”

  “Who was...”

  “I’m getting to that. You see, the baby wasn’t Earl’s and Earl knew that from the very beginning. I doubt he ever even slept with Shelley. It was just a platonic relationship, if you know what I mean.”

  “Go on.”

  “I would love to know how she talked old Earl into marrying her and claiming the baby was his. Hadley says that’s what set her ex-husband off – Earl claiming to be the baby’s father. That little girl was her ex’s and he wasn’t about to let another man raise her.”

  “Hold on a minute. You mean the baby is still alive?”

  “Sure, man. He took the child, took the money, hated Shelley enough to kill her for letting Earl put his name on the baby’s birth certificate, and pulled off the perfect crime.”

  “How do you know all this?”

  “Hadley talked, man. So what do you say? You going to tell Otis to let me out of here?”

  Rod nodded. “Your papers should be coming through early next week. Think you can stay out of trouble until then?”

  “Really? You wouldn’t lie to me?”

  “No I wouldn’t.”

  “Hey, can you have Crazy Eddie pick me up? I’m dying to see what his truck really can do.”

  “I’ll see what I can arrange. One more question.”

  “You want to know who Shelley’s ex-husband is?”

  “That’s right.”

  “It’s...”

  DEPUTY WAYNE GRIFFIN’S retirement party wasn’t meant to be anything elaborate and even what there was, seemed to embarrass him. A large square cake, with the words, “Good Luck!” sat on a table beside paper plates, forks, large bowls of punch and paper cups. By the time Rod showed up, Nancy and Willie had already come and gone, and so had several others who needed to get back to their jobs and their fields. It was just as well. Rod was still stunned by the name of the man Fagan said was the kidnapper, and couldn’t seem to think about anything else. The problem was, he had not one shred of proof. All he had was the word of a convict known far and wide as a habitual liar. The next step was to talk to Hadley and see if Shelley’s brother could confirm it.

  As soon as the crowd grew to a respectable size, Otis presented his faithful deputy with a small, gold retirement badge and pinned it on the lapel of his shirt. Two ladies cut the cake and handed out slices on paper plates, while another woman filled cups with punch.

  After a few more jokes and handshakes, Wayne hugged Millie, picked up his suitcase and then he was gone with Otis following him out.

  When Rod went back for a second piece of cake, Millie said, “You should try eating lunch once in a while.”

  “Didn’t have enough time today.” He took a bite and then asked, “Where is Wayne off to?”

  “Ireland. He’s been there on vacation every year forever and loves it there. He owns a small house, and is looking forward to just kicking back and watching the sunsets.”

  “You ever meet his wife?”

  “Nope, she was history long before I came on board. Too bad he never had any kids the way he loves them around here. He even likes the teenagers and they like him.”

  “I wonder why he never married again.”

  “I asked him once and he only shrugged.”

  “He was working here during the kidnapping, right? I didn’t find much about his part of the investigation in the file.”

  “You wouldn’t, would you? He took the week before and the week after July 4th off every year. We get paid for the 4th working or not, and that way he got an extra day.”

  “That was smart.”

  “I think so.” Millie handed him her empty plate, giggled and then headed for the door, “Gotta get back to work before Otis digs another candy bar out of his desk.”

  WHEN OTIS GOT BACK, he manned the switchboard until Millie returned, and was surprised to see who was seated in his office waiting for him. “Birdie? I don’t remember you ever coming to see me. What can I do for you?” He took his place behind his desk and then folded his arms.

  She looked pale, somber and close to tears. “Please, just listen,” she managed to say. She nervously glanced at the open door and was relieved to see Rod standing there. She turned her attention back to Otis, and continued, “That night, I heard a baby cry. At first, I thought it was a cat, but it kept crying. I didn’t have any guests with a baby, so I got up and went to see what it was. The crying was coming from the kitchen, so I opened the door and went in. Except for the light over the stove, it was dark and the baby was in a carrier next to a diaper bag on the table. I was about to pick the baby up when I felt a gun in my back.

  Otis wrinkled his brow. “The night of the kidnapping?”

  “Please,” said Birdie, “just let me say it. I’ve waited years to tell you.”

  “Go on,” said Otis. He nodded when Rod came in and quietly took a seat in the chair next to Birdie.

  “He said,” birdie continued, “if I told anyone, he would kill me. He already had a bottle of milk warming in the microwave and
when the timer went off, he told me to see if it was the right temperature. I was so scared; my hands shook when I poured some on my wrist. It was okay, so I put the cap on and when he told me to feed her, I did what he said.”

  “Baby Tiffany?”

  “I didn’t know whose baby it was until the next day. He had a key to my place, you know, a key I’d given him. The baby didn’t drink much before she fell asleep. He put the gun away, put the bottle in the bag, and picked it up while I put the baby back in the carrier. Right before he left, he said if I told, he would claim he found one of the baby’s shoes in my bedroom. And if I tried to run, he would hunt me down. I was trapped. I’ve been trapped all these years.”

  “Birdie, why didn’t you come to me?” asked the puzzled sheriff. “We could have protected you.”

  “Because you wouldn’t have believed me. I threatened Earl in front of witnesses. I claimed it was his fault I had to give up my baby, and someday I would make him pay for it.” Birdie paused long enough to finally take a breath. “I thought about telling you a thousand times, but you wouldn’t have believed me.”

  The still perplexed Otis said, “I would have taken your word against Michael’s any...”

  A tear finally ran down Birdie’s cheek. “It wasn’t Michael – it was Wayne Griffin.”

  Otis abruptly leaned forward. “Wayne? Are you sure?”

  Rod quickly confirmed it “Fagan told me Wayne was Shelley’s ex-husband and the baby’s natural father.”

  “But he wasn’t even in town...” Otis started, before he paused to think it over. “He could have been, though.”

  Birdie wiped her tears away with a tissue she found in her purse, “He’s gone for good, right? I mean, I saw him get in the cab. He’ll come for me if...”

  Otis stood up. “Rod, follow Birdie home and stay with her until I call.”

  “Yes, Sir,” Rod said. He helped the visibly exhausted Birdie get up and then escorted her out.

  Otis found the number online, grabbed the phone, and called airport security in Des Moines. “Sherriff Otis Pierce in Blue Falls, I need you to arrest Wayne Griffin, and whatever you do, don’t let him get on a plane...Yes, I’ll fax you a picture right away.” He put his hand over the phone to muffle the sound and shouted, “Millie, get me a picture of Wayne and do it now!”