She Only Speaks to Butterflies (22 page)

“That’s right.”

“Well, our records here show that the stolen vehicle, err…before it was reported stolen, was involved in a motor vehicle accident about eighteen months ago.”

Alan chuckled. “Well, that would account for all the damage…there was duct tape holdin’ up the bumpers. The thing was in terrible condition. Seemed settin’ it on fire did it a favor.”

“Err…yes. Well, it seems the accident didn’t occur while the car was in Mr. Carlisle’s possession, though.”

Silence.

Alan could hear Greta shuffling papers. “It seems the car was in the possession of a man on our records for a couple of DUIs, a Mr. Reginald Thomas Maxwell. Do you know this man?”

“Reggie Maxwell? Yes, I do. He’s given us some trouble here as well.” Alan’s heart was beating slightly faster. “How is he connected to Wayne Carlisle though? I couldn’t find any records for him here.”

Greta paused to type something into her computer. “Let’s look at his next of kin,” she murmured. “Ah, he’s the stepson of Margaret Carlisle-Maxwell.”

Alan was shocked. “Margaret? Why she never used the name Carlisle. No wonder we couldn’t figure out what the connection was.”

“Yes, sir. He must have lived with Mr. Maxwell just long enough to leave the vehicle behind.”

“That makes sense.”

“And it was reported stolen from Rodney Carlisle…looks like that’s Wayne’s uncle…estranged at any rate.”

“Geez…what a family,” Alan commented. “Thanks for yer troubles, ma’am…err…Ms. Steinbrook.”

“You’re welcome,” Greta said and hung up.

Alan interlaced his fingers in front of him. They knew where the car came from now, but the only question left was if Reggie was the one responsible for the fires, or if the car was simply stolen from his property and set fire to by someone else. Alan ran his fingers through his hair. The bottle left on the scene matched Reggie’s brand, but that was weak since anyone could have left it there. Reggie was known to be a troublemaker in town, but Alan wasn’t sure if it was enough to make him think Reggie could be responsible for setting the fires.

Reggie and his gang were so angry over the town’s decision to build the hospital by the highway instead of using the land over on Grogan St, and Alan’s heart began to beat faster again, thinking: what if those smaller fires were just the tip of the iceberg? Would Reggie and his gang be capable of doing something like that? Starting fires? They were just a bunch of drunks, how harmful could they possibly be?

Chapter 17

Denise’s backpack for the sleepover was packed so tight it took both Sherry and Gertrude to close it.

“Love, no offense, but it’s only overnight,” Gertrude chuckled. “What on earth does Denise need besides pajamas and a toothbrush?”

Sherry wiped a bead of sweat off her brow. “Momma, I just want her to have all the comforts of home. I packed Rainy Day bear, her purse, her favorite brush and hair tie, a picture of me and Chris and…Lord, I dunno what else.”

“Now don’t ya worry, dear. Ned and Kate’ll take good care of her. And don’t forget that she’ll be with Luke and a bunch of other kids.”

Sherry’s expression was solemn. “But what if she needs me in the night? What if she has a bad dream or she gets a tummy ache or somethin’?”

“Sherry, the Lord is with her always. Have faith. She’ll be safe just like she always is. What is meant to be is meant to be.”

“I know, momma, but I just can’t help feelin’ unsettled. She’s only seven years old.” Sherry frowned. “Is she even old enough for a sleepover?”

“Accordin’ to who?” Gertrude craned her neck back. “There an instruction manual she came with?” She said matter-of-factly. “Hunny, if she wants to go then she’s ready. Don’t fight it.”

Walking to the bedroom window, Sherry peered out. Granddaughter and Grampa were sitting on the porch swing. Denise was showing Kenny how to weave a bracelet. “I know, momma,” Sherry sulked. “I guess it’s just hard watchin’ her grow up so fast.”

“I know sweetie, but it’s time.”

…

Ned was with a dozen kids ranging in age, standing at the entrance to the horse stables as Sherry pulled up. Spotting the Eldorado, Ned walked down the driveway to meet the girls.

“Looks like you just missed part of the tour, sweetie,” Sherry said, craning her neck back so she could see Denise.

“Here, let me help ya with that, love.” Ned crouched down to help Denise with her backpack. He took it by the top handle, looking at Sherry. “Thanks dear, fer bringin’ her. Sure means a lot to me.”

“She’s real excited. She’s never slept in a hay loft before.”

Ned brightened. “Really? Oh darlin’ have I got a surprise for you!” He looked down at Denise.

Kate waved from the front porch. “Come on in. I’m makin’ a fresh pot a tea.”

Ned gestured Denise to the horse stables. “Come and let’s see what Midnight and Calvin are snackin’ on. I saved ya some to feed ‘em.”

“Feel like keepin’ me company for a while?” Kate asked as Sherry watched Denise walk with Ned. Both women went into the house and sat at the kitchen table. “Ned’s ordered an extra truckload of hay bales for the kids to play on,” Kate said conversationally as she made a pot of tea. “Half of ‘em wouldn’t fit in the barn so we had to put ‘em inside the conservatory.” She gestured like it was no big deal. “He can handle movin’ ‘em over a few feet I s’pose.”

Kate poured two cups of tea, handing one to Sherry as she took a seat next to her.

“So where’re all the kids sleepin’ tonight?” Sherry asked.

“Ned’s lined up the bales like he did last year, in with the cows. We’ll move the stock outta there for the night so they don’t disturb the youngin’s. The little ones’ll sleep in the bunk above the troughs and the older ones’ll take the bales on the other side.”

“Can they get down from the bunk on their own?”

“Oh, yes,” Kate waved. “Ned built a wide ladder that’s attached to the bunk so it won’t fall. The kids’ll practice comin’ up and down later.”

They both paused to sip their tea.

“Will they have a campfire later on?”

Kate shook her head, swallowing. “Alan’s got a fire ban now; too dry.” She scrunched her nose.

“Doug gonna be home tonight?”

“He’s on rounds all night at the hospital,” Kate answered. “Be home in the mornin’ early though.”

“You’ve been busy.” Sherry observed all the baked goodies wrapped in cellophane, sitting on larger tables in the dining room. “The kids won’t go hungry, that’s for sure.”

“Ain’t no Baker or guest ever gone hungry,” Kate said matter-of-factly. “Your momma was by earlier to pick up some fresh eggs, looks like you and her are gonna do some bakin’ tomorrow.”

Denise walked by the window, seeing her mom standing there. For the first time in as long as Sherry could remember, Denise waved to her and smiled. Not a short, casual smile, but an ear-to-ear ‘God-I-couldn’t-be-any-happier-if-I-tried’ smile. A lump in her throat formed as Sherry decided it was time to go. She turned to Kate, sighing. “Call me if ya need me.”

“I will. I promise.” Kate closed her eyes and lowered her chin for emphasis.

…

Ned finished playing a round of ‘What time is it, Mr. Wolf?’ with the younger kids and then readied them for ghost stories before bed. The older kids were playing cards on hay bales, but they jumped when they heard about the upcoming spooky tales. Luke and Denise sat holding hands while the stories were told with flashlights, illuminating their faces in the darkness of the barn.

The cattle had been moved and the stalls cleaned. The bales of hay were lined up and dressed in sleeping bags and pillows. This after they jumped from the loft into the bales, screaming with glee. They piled the bales neatly, fixing the ones on the loft so the other smaller children could sleep comfortably.

Luke fell asleep with the older kids, to Denise’s chagrin. Lisa Stainer happily slept beside her instead. Kevin Martin, Jenny Martin’s son, offered to sleep in the bale next to Luke. Denise watched Luke sleep soundlessly on the hay bale as Ned approached her.

“Now I know ya want Luke to sleep with ya darlin’, but there’s always next time.” Ned pulled her sleeping bag up to her chin. “Ya know I love ya more ‘n the moon an’ the stars, don’t ya?” For that he received a kiss on the end of his nose.

Ned made sure he left the floodlight on outside the barn. “Lord keep ‘em safe ‘til mornin’. Amen,” he prayed, closing the door. Both the Bakers stood vigil outside the barn on a bistro table. They didn’t leave until they heard the last whisper and giggle.

“I’m gonna go tuck the cattle ‘n horses in,” Ned said. “I won’t be long.”

Kate went inside, preparing everything for the morning. The stars shone brightly as the crickets chirped and the odd bullfrog called for a mate.

The horses were rubbed down vigorously as Ned checked the stalls, making sure everything was in order for horseback riding tomorrow. He bent down to pick up a large heap of hay when he was suddenly struck on the side of his head. As he stumbled and fell, his cheek touched the cold stable floor. The last thing he saw as he drifted into unconsciousness was a bright red hunter’s cap floating down beside his face.

…

Kate prepared pancake batter and freshly cut fruit for breakfast as she hummed a familiar tune playing from her clock radio on the window sill. As she closed the fridge door, she was startled by a bang coming from the back of the house. The patio doors leading to the small postage-stamp shaped yard were opened as the sound became louder. Sliding open the glass door, she looked into the darkness and was suddenly hit on the head from the side and knocked out.

…

Denise lay in a dreamless sleep. Rainy Day bear was clutched tightly in her left arm; her face was barely visible under the adult-sized sleeping bag. She awoke suddenly to a strange noise. Lifting her head she realized she’d been left alone in the loft. Her heart began to pound as she looked down and saw all the other children sleeping on the hay bales by Luke.

Feeling chilled, Denise grabbed Lisa Stainer’s sleeping bag that she’d left in the loft. Wrapping it around her she felt instantly comforted and drifted back to sleep.

What seemed like moments later she was awakened by the pungent odor of smoke.

Chapter 18

The smoke made the room appear decorated for Halloween with lights and dry ice. The glass inside the door leading to the conservatory glowed orange. The other children lay asleep on the hay bales. Denise’s heart pounded in her ears as she pushed out a breath futilely. It made no noise. Kevin Martin was the first to wake. His eyes widened as he began nudging the friend beside him to wake up. The smoke thickened suddenly, choking the others awake. Luke lay in the smallest heap, sleeping soundly as they exited the building, forgetting about him and the silent girl above.

Panicking, she reached for the flashlight nestled under the covers and threw it toward Luke. Her aim was terrible; she missed. Denise whimpered, hearing a soft croak in her throat. The fire licked through the small gap between the wooden door and the frame. Luke hadn’t moved. The thought of losing Luke was too much to bear. She had to save him. Her cold feet touched the first wrung of the ladder and she trembled.
What if the fire gets me? What if it’s a big fire monster behind the door, and he’s just waiting for me to climb down so he can catch me?

The bedtime story about a fire-breathing dragon rang in her memory as her imagination forced her to let go of the ladder. Dripping from the door frame the flames became more intense. Helplessly, Denise recited, in her head, the only prayer she knew by heart:

Our father, who art in heaven…

As she closed her eyes to pray, a loud whistle startled her. It sounded like Kate’s tea kettle boiling, when it forced steam through the whistle on the spout. Tears pricked behind her eyes as she fought to gather air in her lungs despite her gasping from fear and smoke. With her eyes sealed shut, Denise tried to will the fire away, when suddenly her eyes widened as the glass window exploded, sending flames shooting through, far too close to Luke and the hay bales below.

Her chest heaved up and down as she drew in the biggest breath she could muster and screamed as loud as she could. “Luke! Luke! Luuuuukkkkkke!” Glass shards sprayed down toward him as she bellowed again. “Waaaaakkkkeee uuuuuppppp!!!” Luke only stirred. Denise doubled over as the veins in her neck and temples bulged, sending the loudest shriek she could manage to her best friend. “Luuuukkkkeeeee!!!! Ffffiiiiiirrreeee!!!”

…

Sherry tossed in bed with each passing hour. By two o’clock in the morning, she gave up and went downstairs for tea. Standing by the counter holding her cup, waiting for the kettle to boil, she could hear the faint shriek of sirens. The cup dropped from her hand unexpectedly as a shiver ran down her spine. After hearing the ceramic mug shatter, Gertrude and Kenny darted out of bed. Kenny was the first to reach her. “W…what’s wrong, darlin’? You okay?” he asked, alarmed yet sleepy.