Chapter 24

They drove by the house on North Garrison in their rented Buick. It was close to dark, yet no lights burned in the one-story ranch.

“Here it is.” Cilla studied the house from the driver’s window.

“Yes. Looks like they’re out.”

“Perhaps they were never here. Maybe she didn’t use her own house to hide Loni. For fear it could be traced.”

“That’s giving them too much credit. Three thousand miles. Who’d find them here?”

“We did.”

“We had somebody to follow.”

Cilla stopped the car at the end of the street, still in sight of the house, and turned to Carver. “That possibility must have occurred to them.”

The old man looked back down the street. They were parked over a block away, facing the gray ranch but behind two other cars. “I’d have someone in a nearby house to keep watch for strangers.”

“So we can’t arouse suspicion from anyone in the neighborhood.” Cilla bit a knuckle. “Do I sell girl scout cookies?”

“No one to sell to. We wait.”

An hour passed. And then two. Cilla ran the engine every fifteen minutes for warmth. She’d never minded cold herself, and the temperature couldn’t be lower than forty-five compared to the twenties they’d left back in New Hampshire. Wally had his arms tightly wound around his chest, but she knew he wouldn’t show weakness if he froze to death. There was no conversation. The only thing they had in common, thought Cilla, was Hudson, and Wally would deny they now had that. She bent her toes toward her shin to exercise the muscles. Wally had levered the passenger seat back and appeared to be asleep, though she knew he wasn’t. She’d learned patience at the ashram, but if Hudson was in that house just a hundred yards away...She focused her thoughts on Wally.

“Time we made a move.” Carver brought the seat upright. “I’m not going to spend the whole night in this damn car. It’s dark enough. We’ll leave the car here.” He climbed out, slapping his hands together. “And leave your bag here; I’ll take the keys.”

Cilla considered telling him to lock the car. No, they might need it quickly. There was nothing in it to take anyway.

They approached on the same side of the street as the house. There were still no lights. A fence ran along the side nearest them, and they crept between it and the house, peeking in windows. They’d almost made a complete circuit of the ranch when Cilla took Wally’s arm and pulled him into some bushes.

“What...?

“Someone’s coming,” she whispered.

A shape appeared at the end of the driveway, and, as they watched, went directly to the front door, opened it and entered. With Wally by the arm, Cilla retraced her steps to a window. Whoever it was turned on no lights, so they could see nothing. Suddenly there was a glimmer of light, not a lamp...“The front door! He’s leaving!” It was Wally’s turn to grab Cilla’s arm. Together they raced around the house. The headlights from a passing car caught the figure of a woman crossing the street. When the car had passed, the two walked quietly down the driveway. From behind a tree they saw the woman mount the steps of a blue house across the street.

“Hypothesis confirmed,” said Wally with satisfaction.

“They’re using both houses,” said Cilla.

“Or just one. I don’t think there’s anyone in this one. Looks as though she just came over to pick something up.”

“Then Hudson’s in the one over there.”

“A little soon for that conclusion. But I think we’ve just seen Dora Fender. Hudson can’t be far away.”

They crossed the street. In the yard was a car, which in the dim light looked dark blue.

“Wally, you wait for me behind this car. I’m going to see who’s inside.”

Wally stiffened. “No indeed. If you think I’m...”

“You’re an old white man. You have neither youth nor Indian skills for skulking.”

For the first time since she’d known him, Carver was momentarily speechless. Cilla ran silently up the driveway. It was a two story raised ranch. There was no one in the front room, but in the kitchen, Dora - if that’s who it was - was talking to a girl whose back was to the window. As she watched, the girl turned slightly. Cilla gasped. It could have been herself sitting there! Without question it was Loni. She studied the girl with wonder, then calculation. In a few minutes she crept back to Carver to tell him what she’d seen. “There’s no one else on the ground floor.”

“Then he’s upstairs,” announced Wally.

“I need ten minutes with Loni.”

“You can get her to talk to you in that period?”

“I have an idea.”

“You do.” As though there was a better chance of acquiring one in a fortune cookie.

“I do.”

“Tell me.”

“Wally, they could leave at any moment. If I can bring it off you’ll know it.”

“I don’t want you fouling our chances of rescuing Hudson.”

“You either. Can you or can you not occupy Dora for a few minutes?”

“Of course I can.”

“How?”

Wally pressed his lips together. “We old WASPS are not completely without resources.”

E. Wallace Carver limped painfully up to the front door. His right leg had obviously been severely injured, and he held his right arm close to his side as though it too was damaged. He rang the doorbell. When there was no response he rang again. Nothing. With a stick from the yard, he pounded on the door. There was a scuttling of feet and the door opened.

“What do you want?” The woman’s eyes burned at him. “Why are you making all this racket?”

“Because I need the name of the owner of this property.” He sagged against the doorframe.

“Hey! What’s the matter with you?”

“I...need to sit down.” Pushing past the woman, he collapsed in a chair. Then he drew himself up as haughtily as his sitting position permitted. ”

“Madam, I need medical attention, but first, are you the owner? I have fallen on your ill-maintained front walk and may be permanently incapacitated. My attorney will require the name of the defendant. Is that you?”

“No! It isn’t my house! I live across...” Her eyes suddenly stopped their restless movement. “What do you mean, `defendant’? There’s nothing wrong with the front walk!”

“If you would care to examine it, in fact please do, you will find an automobile tire in the middle of it, or perhaps to one side since it may have moved when I fell over it. Again I ask the name of the owner please.”

“He isn’t here, and.what were you doing on his property anyway?”

“I was looking for the house number. I am unfamiliar with this street. You are undoubtedly aware that it is the responsibility of homeowners to keep their properties hazard free. Yours was not.” He coughed and clutched his chest, bending over in the chair.

“Hey! What’s wrong with you?”

“Your phone.” he gasped. “Need...an ambulance.”

“Well you’re not calling any...hey!” Carver slowly fell out of the chair onto the carpeted floor. “Shit!” The woman bent over and shook him. “Old man! Old man!” There was no response from Wally who’d stretched out on the floor with his eyes closed, breathing heavily. She stood undecided for a moment, then went to the telephone at the end of the room next to the stairs to the second floor. She dialed nervously.

“Frank, problem. Some old bastard tripped on a tire on the front walk and hurt himself...How do I know! It wasn’t there twenty minutes ago. He came in here wanting the owner’s name. And then an ambulance. Now he’s passed out on the floor...She’s okay. She’s in the kitchen and hasn’t heard any of this. Maybe you’d better come play doctor again...why, can’t it wait? Jesus, I can’t have him here that long!...That’s better. As quick as you can. Christ, he might die on me!” She hung up the phone and stood looking at Carver. He groaned and his eyes opened.

“What happened?” He sat up, wincing at the pain. “Did you call an ambulance?”

“Even better. I got a doctor. He’s busy on a call, but he’ll be over in twenty minutes.”

“Twenty minutes! While I’m lying here in agony?”

“An ambulance wouldn’t make it much sooner. We’re not downtown, you know...You want a glass of water, or some coffee?”

“No, no! Perhaps you’d help me over to the phone. My wife will worry about me.”

“Where’s your wife?” She got him to his feet, and he weaved his way unsteadily over to the instrument.

“At the hotel. We’re only here in Olympia overnight. I was trying to find some friends of ours. I spoke with them on the telephone a short while ago, but I’ve gotten lost locating their house.”

“And your wife didn’t come along?”

“They’re friends of mine, as a matter of fact a former lady friend of mine, before I met my wife.” He was interrupted by another siege of coughing. “She felt I should go alone,” he wheezed. He picked up the receiver and dialed a series of numbers.

“Hello, room 211 please...Marge? I’ve had a bit of a fall. I’m alright, but it will be a while...” The woman had turned to go to the kitchen. With a choking sound, Carver dropped the telephone on its rest and fell to the floor.

The woman stopped at the sound. “Again?” She ran back to him. Carver had both hands to his chest and was taking in short rasping breaths.

“My heart,” he gasped.

“You have pills for it?” Her look was not sympathetic.

“In my pocket.”

“Which one?” She knelt on the floor next to him.

“Left.”

She dug her hand into his overcoat pocket. “There’s nothing in here.”

“Must be the right then.”

He was lying on his right side, and it took some effort to get him rolled over on his left.

“There’re no pills in this one either.”

“Ohhh. They’re back at the hotel.”

“Then you’ll just have to lie there until the doctor comes.”

Carver said, “Maybe you could help me to a bed upstairs.”

“No!...the rooms aren’t insulated up there.”

“I don’t mind cold.”

“You’re in a weakened condition. I’m not going to have you catching pneumonia too.”

“Then a pillow? The floor is hard.”

With an exasperated snort, she got to her feet and went up the stairs, returning in a minute with two pillows, which she put under Carver’s head. “There!”

Wally wrapped his arms around his chest. “I need a blanket. It’s drafty here.”

“Oh for Christ’s sake!” But she went, and a few minutes later two light blue blankets were wrapped around him. She turned toward the kitchen. “And now you’ll just have to...”

Wally sat up. “I’ll be dead in twenty minutes. If you won’t call an ambulance I’m going to leave.” He started to his feet. “At least I’ll die in the open air.” He got on his knees, collapsed on the floor and tried again.

“Here!” The woman had been watching this scene with mixed feelings. If the old buzzard could make it out of the house, so much the better. But if he died first, his body would be a real nuisance. She squeezed her head under his shoulder to help him stand. He got on his feet weaving, and the two staggered around like a dance team trying new steps. She finally got him to the door; he was half way out it when he gave a cry and fell back on the floor with a crash.

“You stupid old...”

Carver was again struggling to get to his feet. “Make it...this time.”

“What’s going on?” Loni had a towel wrapped around her head and cold cream on her face.

“This...gentleman had a fall. Help me get him out.”

“But if he’s hurt, Dora, shouldn’t we...”

“He’s fine. Take his other arm. What are you doing with that towel?”

“I decided to wash my hair. Are you sure he’s okay?”

“I’m fine,” gasped Carver looking anything but. “Just get me down the steps.”

They reached the bottom with difficulty. There Wally grasped Dora’s hand. “You have been kind. Perhaps I won’t sue. One last request, I’d like to take you up on that offer of a glass of water.”

Dora could see the end of the problem and rushed back into the house.

Wally straightened up. “Any problem?”

“No. She’ll meet you at the car. Hudson’s here. He supposedly had an attack.”

“These people are definitely not FBI.”

“So Hudson’s probably drugged.”

“Upstairs. There’s no one else here. I’ll bang Dora on the head and get Hudson out. Her friend Frank is coming, probably within fifteen minutes.”

“No. The reason Hudson is here is to find out why we’re living with bodyguards. And that’s what we’re going to do.”

“You think you can get up to him?”

“Of course. My room’s up there. I’ll flick the lights twice when I find Hudson. Dora feels she’s sold Loni on the `attack’ and the `doctor’.

“You had no problem with the changing?”

“It was a hard sell. What tipped it is Loni really doesn’t like Dora.”

“What will you...oh, thank you. Just a sip or two and I should be able to make it.”

“Where’s your car?” demanded Dora.

“Down the street.” Carver gestured in the opposite direction from the Buick, turning away from Dora as he appeared to drink. With this group, he was taking no chances. “That’s better. Just a sip was all I needed.” He handed the glass back to Dora. He turned his coat collar up and hobbled down the walk.

“Let’s get inside, Loni.” In the dim lighting outside the front door, she looked at the girl curiously. “Why did you decide to wash your hair all of a sudden?”

“Back east I used to wash it every day, sometimes twice a day. I got my blouse wet though. I’m going up to change.”

“Don’t be long. Dinner’s almost ready.”

Cilla stopped at the top of the stairs to see if Dora was following, but she was alone on the second floor, and there were pot and pan sounds from the kitchen. It wasn’t a large house, three bedrooms across the front, the doors open on two; both were empty. She went to the third. It was locked; one of those doors where the lock is part of the knob. Supposedly you could open them with a credit card, if she had a credit card, and if the door didn’t open inward, so when closed it fit snugly into the jamb or molding or whatever you called the piece of wood it was up against. She knocked quietly.

“Hudson?” she whispered. No response. “Hudson?” a little louder. Still nothing. It wasn’t a particularly solid door. With something to brace against she might be able to kick it in. And blow any chance of learning something from Dora. She went back to the other bedrooms. Remembering the reason she’d given Dora, she found a different blouse. Dora was shorter and wider than Loni and herself, so she had little difficulty picking the right clothes and room. She found a scarf, which she wrapped around her head in place of the towel.

She heard the front door open and close and voices. She went toward the stairs. The sounds were low, and she couldn’t make out what was being said. It was no better from a few steps down. In fact the voices were fainter; they’d gone to the kitchen. Feeling less than confident, she quietly though positively walked down the stairs and toward the kitchen, just as though she lived there. There was no door to the kitchen - she and Loni had had to change clothes in the minuscule half bath that adjoined it - so she could hear without getting close.

“Does it make sense to you?”

“None of it makes sense! What the hell was I supposed to do? Shoot him?”

“Eight years I’ve lived in Olympia, and nobody’s ever come to my door with a heart attack. Just when we got these two...you shouldn’t have let him go.”

“And if he died? What do I do, chop him up and flush him down the john?”

The man spoke more quietly. “Maybe. We’ve got one to get rid of anyway.” Cilla shivered at the casual lack of emotion in the man’s voice.

“I don’t like it, Frank. This wasn’t supposed to happen.”

“I’ll take care of it.”

“You going to need Harv?”

“No.”

There was silence for a minute. Cilla hurried for the stairs, but there were no sounds of movement so tiptoed back.

“...take me ten minutes.”

“And then what? It scares me, Frank.”

“Come up with another idea.”

“We could go to my sister Phoebe’s.”

“In Arizona?”

“Sure. Phoebe’s in Mexico. We’ll tell the princess he just wandered away.”

“Why not do that here?”

“Because I live here in Olympia,” said Dora

“You going to sell the girl on another trip?”

“We...may have been discovered and now have to move. The man, Rogers, needs dry air. Lots of people do. You have this nursing home in Arizona. Sure, I can sell it. She’s a dip.”

“Alright. It’s got a big desert. Have Harv bring the ambulance. Ready in a half hour.”

“Yeah.”

A chair scraped. Cilla made for the stairs. Arizona! Should she forget trying to get information? Just get Hudson and herself out. She felt pretty sure she could handle Frank and Dora, if she could take them by surprise. Harv was an unknown. Was he right outside? She’d just get one chance with people who were planning to leave Hudson in the desert. Why not her, too? What was Loni being kept alive for? Maybe she wasn’t, but then...

What would Hudson do? He’d get her out; she had no question about that. Suppose he needed a real doctor? It couldn’t be good for anyone to stay drugged like this. But if they were planning on him making it alive to Arizona...She reached a decision. She went into her room, turned the lights on. Then off. Then on. Then off. And a third time on and off. Dora’s room was next to hers. Her eyes went around it. The bureau first. There were only a few articles of clothing in the drawers. Most of Dora’s stuff must be across the street. The closet held just one suit and a coat. In its pocket was a letter addressed to Dora. The return address was Sedona, Arizona.

“What are you doing in my closet?” Right behind Dora was Frank, and the look in his eyes was not friendly.