Part 10 (1/2)
Augusta put her hands over Fannie's. ”You seem upset. Is everything okay?”
”I'm fine, fine.” She pulled her hands away.
”I met Ned Bundle the other day,” Haley said.
Fannie's head jerked up. ”The biggest loser to ever walk the earth.” She curled her lip. ”He was always following your mother around, complimenting her, annoying her. She was scared of him. After the fire, Ned took over the dig as if it had been his project all the time. He took credit for the work your dad did.” Spots of color stained her cheeks, and her voice rose.
”He didn't seem that type at all!” Haley realized she'd raised her voice and lowered it again. ”He was polite and gentlemanly. Very pa.s.sionate about his work.”
”Looks like he's pulled the wool over your eyes. Ask Joy about him. She doesn't think the fire was an accident either. Tread carefully around him, honey. He'll pounce when you least expect it. Your father was blackmailing someone. I think it might have been Ned. Maybe he got tired of it.”
”Are you saying this man may have set the fire? You and Joy both believe that?” Augusta asked. ”But why? Just to get control of the dig? That hardly seems a motive to kill someone. And how do you know he was blackmailing someone?”
”Maggie told me, but she wouldn't say who it was. Fannie went back to tearing the paper napkin. ”Maggie didn't trust Ned-that's why I think it might have been him. And she suspected he might be selling artifacts from the dig.”
”Did my mother tell my father?”
”Not that I know of. She was afraid of Ned.”
The mother Haley remembered feared nothing. ”Did you tell all this to Chet Gillespie?” Haley asked slowly.
”Yes, but there was no proof. They didn't find enough of the bodies to do an autopsy, so we had to go with the fire.”
Haley winced at the look on her grandmother's face. Did Fannie have to be quite so blunt? ”Did they check to see if it was arson? Can't they tell how the fire started?”
”This is Stalwart. We don't have arson investigators and such. Trooper Gillespie is a good man, but he's overworked from all the shenanigans the men pull in this town. He declared it an accident and left it at that. But maybe you can get him to reopen the investigation.”
”On what grounds? This Ned Bundle isn't going to admit anything to me.”
”He might.” Fannie thrust out her jaw in a stubborn pose. ”I just hate to see him get away with this. Don't you want to find out what happened to your parents?”
”Did you date him or something?” Haley asked.
A tide of red swept up Fannie's face, and she looked down. ”That has nothing to do with anything.”
Her instincts had been right. ”I realize you don't like Ned Bundle, but a half-forgotten dig of doubtful value is hardly enough to kill over.”
”I hoped you had more s.p.u.n.k than to ignore this,”
Fannie said. ”I heard how you loved to explore. Isn't that how your sister died?”
Haley wasn't going to talk about Chloe. Not anymore. ”My parents' deaths are for the law, not for me. I don't have the expertise to delve into something like this.”
”I might ask some questions,” Augusta said thoughtfully. ”This whole thing makes me uneasy.”
”Stay out of it, Augusta! I don't want anything to happen to you.”
Fannie smiled. ”Honey, if you're so sure I'm all wet, why would you think your grandma might get hurt?”
”The truth? I don't care. If that sounds harsh, maybe it is. For me, my parents died a long time ago. They exited my life and never looked back.” She expected Fannie to try to make excuses for her parents, and she didn't want to hear them.
The older woman nodded. ”I talked to your mother about you several times. She was hard, clear to the end.
It made no sense to blame an eight-year-old. You were too young to understand.”
Haley didn't look at Augusta or Fannie. ”Oh, I understood. I knew what I did was wrong, and that I'd killed my sister. My parents never blamed me more than I blamed myself. If I could have taken Chloe's place, I would have.”
”Don't say that, Haley.” Augusta put her hand over Haley's restless fingers. ”It was the Lord's will. We have to accept what happened.”
Haley clapped her hands over her ears. ”I don't want to hear any more about the Lord's will. If he's that gruesome, how can you love him?”
Augusta yanked Haley's hands down. ”G.o.d promises he'll work all things out for our good, Haley. All things, not just the ones we like. This is an evil world, but G.o.d is good.”
”I see no evidence of that,” Haley said stubbornly. She glanced at her watch. ”I'm going back to my room.” She stood and dropped some money on the table. ”Thanks for the information, Fannie. If we hear anything, we'll let you know.” She grabbed her crutches and fled the cafe.
Twelve.
What are you doing out of your room?” Tank scooped up Oscar, who was racing up and down the hotel hallway. His yipping would soon bring irate hunters out of their rooms in droves. The little dog wriggled in his arms and licked his chin. He strode down the hall to Haley's room and rapped on the door.
When no one answered, he rapped again, harder, and the door eased open. Suns.h.i.+ne flooded the room from the open curtains. ”Haley?” He felt a stirring of unease. ”Is everything okay?”
A rhythmic thump came from the hallway to his left. He turned to see Haley coming toward him on the crutches he'd made her. Turning toward her so she could see the dog in his arms, he smiled. ”We have an escapee.”
”How did he get out?” Her skin was flooded with high color, and a sheen of perspiration beaded her forehead.
”Are you okay?”
She nodded and pushed the door to her room open wider. ”Just exhausted. I'd forgotten how tiring crutches are. I need to go to the store and get some moisturizer for my hands. They're sore.”
”I'll get it for you. Rest a while. I'll be right back.” He followed her inside, where she dropped her backpack and half fell into the chair.
She held out her arms for the dog. ”I'd better get it myself. I'm a little picky about the brand.”
”Are you always this independent, or only with me?” He plopped Oscar in her arms. Were those tears in her eyes? ”Whoa, I didn't mean it. Are you okay?”
”I'm fine.” She dashed the tears from her cheeks with an angry jerk. ”It's nothing.”
”Looks like it,” he observed. ”Nothing always makes me look like I'm about to explode. It's good to do nothing and get the blood pumping.”
Her angry expression eased, and she sniffled, then smiled, though it seemed a little forced. ”I don't want to talk about it.” She heaved herself to her feet.
”I'll go with you. What do we do with the mutt?”
”Leave him here.”
”He was outside in the hallway.”