Georgia groaned but handed over the list. He quickly checked out the phone numbers she’d been given. One was the main number at the high school office. The name with it was Monte. Another had used the number at a bar in Eureka, name Wild Bill. A third had used the number at the newspaper in Eureka where the reward notification had run, name Hank. Each of those had given a first name to ask for. The fourth had used a burner phone. Only one had used a phone number under his name. He recognized the name of a person he’d had to arrest for a number of infractions over the years.

  Brandt swore under his breath and looked at the two women sitting across from him. “Here’s what I’d suggest we do.”

  * * *

  IRMA CRANDELL WAITED until her husband, Gage and Cliff had gone to the barn to work on the tractor. She found her grandson Wyatt in the butchering room about to cut up the pig he had hanging.

  He looked up, surprised to see her. In this family, women’s work was inside the house. Everything else fell to the men and wasn’t any of the women’s business.

  “I need to talk to you,” Irma said, closing the door. She locked it and turned to see Wyatt’s eyes as wide as a harvest moon. “You’re going to tell me the truth, aren’t you, boy.” He nodded looking as if he wanted to make a run for it. “This is just between the two of us. You get my meaning?” Another nod as she took the knife he’d been sharpening away from him. “Tell me everything you know about Seth.” She touched the blade of the knife, finding it plenty sharp. “Everything.”

  Then she listened as Wyatt stumbled over the words, his gaze going from her face to the knife in her hand.

  When he finished filling her in on what he knew, she asked, “Who killed Seth?”

  Wyatt looked like his bladder might fail him as he said, “I don’t know. I swear, I don’t.” As scared as he looked, she thought he was telling the truth. All she could hope was that he feared her more than his grandfather. She studied him for a full minute before she put down the knife and reached over to cup his face. He was the most like Seth, something she knew her husband would try to kill in him.

  The thought filled her with that familiar sense of desolation as she walked to the door and unlocked it. As she swung the door open, she came face-to-face with Cecil.

  “Irma? What are you doing down here?” Cecil demanded, looking past her to Wyatt.

  “Just telling the boy how I want my pork chops cut this time,” she snapped and pushed past him. But as she walked away, she glanced back, catching Wyatt’s eye and giving him a warning look.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “We need to weed out anyone who doesn’t have the dummy,” the sheriff was saying. Georgia tried each of the numbers, asked for the person whose name she had and then told the person who answered that she would need a photo of the puppet with this week’s newspaper texted to her.

  He noticed that Molly didn’t seem to be listening. “There a problem?”

  “Do you know May Greenly?”

  He’d been right. She hadn’t been listening. Because she wasn’t concerned about the calls because she knew none of these people had Rowdy? Or was something else on her mind.

  “May Greenly was my third-grade teacher. Why are you asking about her?”

  Molly shook her head, motioning for him to move on.

  Georgia finished and pocketed her phone. “So now we wait. I left the message for each of the people who contacted us.”

  Brandt sighed. “If you get a photo of Rowdy sent to your phone with this week’s Tobacco Valley News paper, we’ll set up a meeting with the person. But I will be the only person going.”

  “I don’t like it,” Georgia said. “They spot you and they could get rid of Rowdy.”

  “First off, I doubt we will hear from any of them. I’d be shocked if one of these people had Rowdy and sent a photo. If you get any more hits on the reward, please treat them the same way. The point is to find Rowdy, right?” Both women nodded. “I’m serious about this being dangerous. Never forget, if you decided to follow up on your own, you could be meeting with the killer.”

  He didn’t really believe that. He thought more than likely it would be the author of the ransom demand who they really had to worry about. But he didn’t want Molly and Georgia taking the chance he was wrong.

  Georgia got to her feet. She glanced at Molly who was still sitting, gave a shake of her head and walked out.

  “Are you all right?” he asked after Georgia had left.

  Molly stirred. “No, not really.” She plastered on a smile. “I’m fine really.” The lie didn’t float and she knew it.

  He let it go for now. “Thanks for not telling Georgia about the ransom demand you received. We’ll handle it the same way once we hear from the alleged kidnapper again.” She nodded but he wasn’t all that sure she was listening. He reminded himself what she’d been through since arriving in Fortune Creek. She was dealing with a lot, some of it maybe just now hitting home.

  As she started to leave, he detained her long enough to reiterate, “Let me know the moment you get another ransom note.”

  “I won’t touch it. I’ll call you at once,” she said impatiently. “But you’re not keeping me out of the loop either. You need me. Seems we need to trust each other.”

  He sighed as he met her gaze, rose and walked around his desk to her. She was in the driver’s seat and they both knew it. From the look in her eyes, he’d pay hell slowing her down once she put her foot on the gas. He was along for what could be a very bumpy ride.

  Swallowing, he held out his hand. “You have my word.” She took his hand. Warmth spread up his arm as he was quickly reminded of earlier in her hotel room. He felt his pulse jump of its own accord. Desire feathered through him, bringing a rush of heat to places that had been forsaken for some time.

  Helen cleared her throat. Brandt realized she’d been standing in the doorway behind Molly apparently for some time. “Two calls for you, Sheriff.” There was a warning edge to her tone.

  He let go of Molly’s hand. “Talk soon,” he said, his voice sounding rough with desire even to his ears—and no doubt to Helen’s from the way she narrowed her eyes. “I’ll take that first call now, Helen,” he said pointedly. He knew she was only trying to look out for him. Didn’t want him making a fool of himself like he had the last time with a city girl.

  Brandt turned to his desk, thankful for the phone calls. Still, after he sat down, he took a moment to catch his breath before he picked up. “Sheriff Parker.”

  “We didn’t get any viable fingerprints off the ransom demand,” the tech at the lab informed him. “Wanted to let you know.”

  He thanked him and told Helen to put through the second call, hoping it would be more productive.

  “Sheriff, it’s Lucy Gunther returning your call.”

  He’d forgotten he’d called Bud Harper’s sister. “Yes, I was calling about Seth Crandell. I understand he and your brother had been friends.”

  “Wow, I haven’t heard that name in a long time. Seth? Now that I think about it, he and Bud did hang out some in middle school, maybe a little in high school? Didn’t Seth drop out, join the service before graduation?”

  “He left at seventeen. What can you tell me about Seth and possibly a girl he dated in town?”

  “That was so long ago,” Lucy said. “I wish Bud was still here. He might remember, but you know, I do have Bud’s photo albums. He was always taking snapshots. Why don’t I look through them and get back to you.”

  “Sounds great. Really appreciate this.”

  “I suppose you can’t tell me why you’d be interested in Seth Crandell after all these years.”

  “Not at this point.”

  She chuckled. “You have me intrigued. I’ll go dig out those albums. There have to be some shots of Seth, I would think.”

  Brandt hoped so as he thanked her again and hung up. It would seem that Seth had made little mark on the area in his seventeen years. But then again, that would depend on the kind of trouble he’d gotten into with some town girl like Irma Crandell had mentioned.

  * * *

  IRMA MULLED OVER everything her grandson had told her. None of it had come as a surprise. Cecil and Gage had gone to see Seth at the hotel one night late. How they’d known he was there was a mystery to Wyatt. But Irma figured Seth had contacted his father somehow to let him know he was in the area.

  Why in the world would Seth be so foolish as to contact the man who’d hated him all those years, she had no idea. That Gage went along to see him gave her hope that her husband hadn’t killed Seth—at least not that night.

  “You have any idea what they talked about?” she had asked Wyatt who’d said he didn’t. They’d come home even later that night, the two men then going their separate ways.

  Which meant that all she knew for sure was that her husband was a liar. She had little doubt though that he could also be a killer.

  When she’d heard about the reward being offered for the doll Seth used in his show, she’d been shocked at first, then curious. The dummy was missing. If her husband had killed Seth like she feared, then maybe he’d brought the dang thing home. Maybe he’d hidden it, though she couldn’t imagine why he would do that.

  Still, she had to search for it. The doll would prove what she knew in her heart. Cecil hated his son enough to kill him—and then lie to her face.

  * * *

  MAY GREENLY LIVED in a small cottage behind the café. The house reminded Molly of a gingerbread house found in the woods in a fairytale. There was a flowerpot up front full of marigolds, and cute lace curtains at the windows.

  At the pretty turquoise door, Molly stopped, feeling as if she was opening up Pandora’s box. But since hearing the woman’s name, she hadn’t been able to quit thinking that this might be a person from one of Rowdy’s stories.

  Did she really want to find out more of her father’s secrets though? She’d never imagined that he had so many. He’d seemed like a man who had never lived much. Wasn’t that why he’d become a ventriloquist—because something was missing? Or because he was hiding behind Rowdy? She felt as if she was close to finding out as she tapped at the door and waited.

  It was a beautiful day, the sky so blue that it hurt to look at it. The pine trees gleamed dark green in the sunlight. The air was so clear and clean that she knew she’d never breathed anything like it before. She tapped again recalling what the owner of the café had said. May seldom left her house and she hadn’t been feeling well. Molly was about to leave, thinking this wasn’t a good time, when she heard movement inside.

  A few moments later the door opened and a small gray-haired woman in a wheelchair appeared. No one had mentioned that May was in a wheelchair. Molly feared she should have called or come at another time and said as much.

  “Don’t be silly,” the woman said. Her whole face lit, sparking the blue eyes and taking years from her round face. “Your timing is perfect.” May continued to smile, not concerned in the least to have a stranger on her doorstep.

  “I’m Molly Lockhart. I was hoping to speak to you about my father.”

  “Your father?”

  “Seth Crandell,” she said and saw from the woman’s expression that she’d come to the right place. There was something so sweet and innocent in the woman’s face. She guessed her to be in her late fifties or early sixties, close to Seth Crandell’s age. “You knew my father.”

  The woman opened the door wider as she wheeled out of the way. “Please, come in. Would you like some tea? Or perhaps some coffee?” she asked as Molly followed her into the kitchen. The walls and shelves were filled with souvenirs from around the country and the world beyond. “No, thank you,” Molly said distractedly as she gazed at the souvenirs. “You must have traveled a lot.”

  May laughed as she offered her a chair at the table. “Oh, no, dear, I’ve never left Fortune Creek. I lived vicariously through the wonderful things your father sent me.”

  Molly was about to take a chair at the kitchen table, but stopped in surprise. “My father sent you all of those?”

  “You sound surprised,” May said as she wheeled up to an empty space at her kitchen table. “He traveled with his show, but surely you know that.”

  Molly shook her head as she sat. “I don’t know very much about my father. He left my mother and me when I was nine.”

  “I’m so sorry,” May said. “That must have been very painful for you and your mother.”

  “How did you know my father?” She thought of the ventriloquist show she’d watched online. He’d said through Rowdy that May was his sweetheart.

  “We grew up together. I was very fond of your father.”

  “He was very fond of you,” Molly said. “At one of his shows, he said you were his sweetheart and that you’d broken his heart.” May smiled, but said nothing. “Are you aware that he recently died?” She saw the answer on the woman’s face. A sadness seemed to soften her features even more. Tears welled in her eyes.

  “Yes, I heard. I was so sorry.”

  “I have to ask—did you see my father while he was here in Fortune Creek?”

  May nodded, smiling. “He came to see me, and we visited just like old times.” She looked so happy, as if lost in the memory.

  “Did he tell you what he was doing in Fortune Creek?”

  “He said he had some unfinished business here,” she said. “He came to say goodbye.”

  “Then he told you he was sick?”

  “Yes, I was so sorry to hear it. After everything he’d been through, I hated seeing him in such pain, both physical and mental.”

  “I’m sorry, you said everything he’d been through?”

  May pursed her lips. Sunshine poured in the window and splashed across the kitchen table. She wiped at a speck of dust on the surface with the hem of her sleeve. “I love this room. It’s my favorite because of all the light, but it always highlights any dust that I’ve missed.” She chuckled to herself.

  Molly could tell that the woman was stalling, not sure of how much she wanted to say. “Please, I would appreciate anything you can tell me about my father. I’m realizing more and more how little I knew about him or how many secrets he had.”

  “He loved you,” May said. “He was so proud of you. He told me how successful you are and how beautiful.” She smiled. “He wasn’t exaggerating one bit either.” The woman was still skirting around the question.

  “What happened to make him leave when he was seventeen? I watched one of his shows and he talked about May Greenly being his first love. Of course he told the story through Rowdy.”

  “Of course, he did,” May said laughing. “He and Rowdy traveled the world together. They were so close.”

  “Rowdy is a dummy, a puppet, not real.”

  “Are you sure about that?” she asked, a twinkle in her eye. “Rowdy was very real to your father.”

  “So you saw Rowdy, when my father came to visit.”

  May laughed. “Of course. He wouldn’t have come without Rowdy. I loved them both and enjoyed Rowdy’s stories and songs so much.”

  “You know Rowdy is missing?” Molly asked.

  “I was so sorry to hear that. Rowdy had become his best friend. Rowdy was all that he had at the end.”

  “He had a family, a daughter he could have turned to, but he obviously chose not to,” Molly said, hating the bitterness in her voice.

  “I know, it does seem that way. But your father didn’t want to burden you with the ghosts from his past, the demons that followed him through life.”

  “What demons were those?” Molly demanded.

  May looked down at her hands in her lap. “You asked why he left at seventeen. I wish I could tell you. It isn’t that I don’t want to or that I’m keeping secrets for him—I honestly don’t know. For so many years I blamed myself for him leaving. We were in love, but we were too young. Even if our families would have agreed to let us marry, we couldn’t. As much as I loved your father...” She shook her head. “It wasn’t meant to be.”

  “Did you ever marry?”

  “Oh, no, dear,” May said. “I never met anyone like your father again. I know it sounds silly, but he was the love of my life. I didn’t want anyone else.”

  “What was my father like when he was young?”

  Her face lit up. “He was charming and so sweet and so loving and so generous. He saw beyond my handicap. He saw into my heart.”

  “Your handicap?”

  “I had polio as a child. I’ve never been able to walk.”

  Molly stared at her, stunned. “I’m so sorry—I had no idea.”

  “Please don’t feel sorry for me. I’ve had a wonderful life. Living here in Fortune Creek has been a joy. I have such close friends—it’s such a wonderful community. I’ve always had love.”

  “There has to be a reason why he left the way he did, why he changed his name, why he was so...unsettled his whole life. Are you sure it wasn’t because he was heartbroken that the two of you couldn’t be together?”

  “We both were heartbroken, but he promised that he would always stay here, that he would always be here if I ever needed him.”

  “He made that same promise to my mother. Seems he wasn’t good at keeping promises.” Molly thought about how easily he had walked away from her and her mother. Had he done the same thing to May? Or had something happened that he couldn’t stay, that he had to go away and change his name and never be Seth Crandell ever again? “Didn’t you ever ask him why he broke his promise to you?”

  May shook her head. “I never needed to. I knew your father’s heart. He wouldn’t have left unless he was forced to. I always thought my family might have threatened him.”

  “Are any of your family still around?” she had to ask, but the woman shook her head.