RESORT TO MURDER (16 page)

Mr. Basker simply shook her hand and nodded,
saying, "Thank you, thank you," and Maggie moved away feeling at
this point unworthy of his gratitude. She hoped she would be able
to change that.

She stood aside, waiting until the crowd
thinned, and gazed at the mounds of colorful flowers that had
accumulated. As she waited, it occurred to her how uplifting these
bright bouquets were to the pervading sorrow, and she wondered why
dark clothing instead of bright colored ones became the norm for
funerals. She herself had chosen the most subdued skirt and blouse
she had packed, white and navy blue. Perhaps I'll put in my will
that everyone who comes to my funeral must dress in bright reds and
yellows. Would they, she wondered, then shook off the odd thought
as she finally saw Aunt Rose standing alone. Maggie went up to
her.

"Oh, Miss," Rose said, brightening despite
reddened eyes. "We're having some food back at the house. Would you
like to come over?"

Maggie thought about the large crowd that
likely would be there. Her presence wouldn't be needed or missed,
and she felt pretty wrung out, emotionally. "Thank you, no."

Rose nodded, understanding. "This surely
isn't what you had in mind for a vacation, is it?"

Maggie shook her head and smiled. "Have the
Baskers heard anything from the sheriff - about the investigation?"
she asked.

"Hardly anything. I got John, my husband, to
call, but all he found out is that they're working on it.” Rose
sighed and wiped her pink, glistening face with a handkerchief
pulled out of her sleeve.

"I've been asking questions myself," Maggie
said, "up at the hotel, trying to fit a few pieces together about
what led to Lori's death. Do you know anything about the tennis
instructor, Rob Clayton?"

"Rob Clayton," Rose repeated, thinking. "I
do remember Lori talking some about him. Let's see, a nice looking
fellow? I think she liked him all right."

"Did she know him well? Perhaps date
him?"

"Now that I couldn't tell you for sure. Let
me think. She did have a certain sparkle in her eye when she talked
about him. but I can't say she ever actually went out with him. Her
mother would know, I'm sure. Would you like me to ask her?"

"Yes, when it's a good time. What about Eric
Semple? Did Lori ever mention him?"

"Eric Semple? The boy who works in
maintenance?"

"Yes, that's him."

"I remember meeting the mother at the blood
drive Lori helped organize. The boy I didn't meet, but his mother
pointed him out to me. My, you'd think he had walked on water to
get there by the way she talked about him. I've known some proud
mothers in my time, but usually they had more to work with."

"You weren't too impressed with Eric?"

"Not by looking at him, that's for sure. He
has a kind of slouchy way about him, you know? And Lori couldn't
tell me much of anything positive when I asked her later, although
she tried. I could see she really tried. Lori liked to see the best
in people."

Maggie caught sight of a familiar figure
moving in the distance. "Rose, that fellow over there, near the
angel monument. He recently started working at the Highview and I
didn't think he would know Lori. Does he look familiar?"

Rose turned to see. "Chuckie Henderson? Oh,
sure he knew Lori. He had a real crush on her back in high school.
I remember she used to groan about his coming around so much,
'cause she really wasn't interested in him, not in that way."

Maggie looked after the retreating Chuckie
with greater interest. "How did he take her rejection?"

"Oh, all right, I guess. He eventually
stopped calling, but I don't think he ever really gave up hope.
Poor boy."

Rose glanced back at the departing family
cars. "I'd better get moving now. You try to enjoy the rest of your
vacation, now. Just move on from all this, hear?"

Maggie nodded and watched her go, then went
in search of her own car. So Chuckie Henderson had a thing for
Lori. An obsession, she wondered? That was something else to look
into. Maggie sat thinking in her car, her hands on the steering
wheel, waiting for a chance to pull onto the cemetery road filled
now with other departing vehicles, when she heard her name called.
Looking around, she saw Holly scurrying with some difficulty in her
high heels on the grass, waving her purse to catch Maggie's
attention. She came to the curb, stepped down carefully, and
hobbled over to Maggie's open window.

"Can I hitch a ride with you?" she asked, as
she bent down and squinted at Maggie. She paused to catch her
breath and looked, Maggie thought, like a little girl playing
dress-up, with her wide eyes and the few freckles dotted over her
nose. "The guy I came with wants to go over to Hagerstown. We both
got the afternoon off, but I don't feel like following him around
while he shops for car parts. Could you just drop me at my mom's
house? It's not much out of the way, honest."

"Sure," Maggie said, and leaned over to
unlock the passenger door. Holly stood up and waved an "OK" signal
to someone in the distance, then scrambled around and into the car.
She started to pull out a cigarette, but Maggie shook her head and
pointed to the No Smoking sign she had installed the first day she
brought her new car home. There weren't a lot of things she was
fussy about, but keeping the lingering smell of stale smoke out of
her car was one of them. "I don't mind waiting if you want to smoke
it outside, though," she said.

"Nah, I should cut down anyway.” Holly
pushed the cigarettes back into her purse, then leaned back,
slipped off her shoes, and gazed out the window as Maggie slowly
wound her way out of the cemetery, following a long line of cars.
"You can take a right, then a left at that light there," she
directed as they finally drove through the gate, then turned to
Maggie with a sudden idea. "Hey, you feel like stopping for
something to eat first? I'm dying for a cheeseburger. My mom's not
expecting me, and there's probably gonna be nothing in the
fridge."

Suddenly the thought of greasy fast food
made Maggie hungry. "Sounds good to me. Where's a good place?"

Holly directed Maggie on a zig-zag route
through the town to a small lunch room situated snugly between a
hardware store and a dress shop. They walked in, and Maggie
immediately saw it a favorite of Coopersburg workers and homebodies
alike. Men in overalls were seated next to mothers with small
children or white haired women in hand-crocheted sweaters. Red
checked curtains framed the windows, and pictures of the owner’s
family and pets decorated the walls. Maggie and Holly seated
themselves at a table next to the window, and Maggie pulled up the
well-thumbed menu propped between the sugar dispenser and salt and
pepper shakers. She decided on a chicken salad, while Holly stuck
with a cheeseburger, and they gave their orders to the young
waitress who scurried over with glasses of water and utensils. They
made small talk as they waited, turning inevitably to the
funeral.

"That really got me at the end, that song,
`Summer Rain'," Holly said at one point. "I was fine until then. I
remembered her humming it as she loaded her trays.” Holly's eyes
welled up at the memory and she looked away and out the window.
Their food came just then, and as plates were set down Maggie
searched for a change of subject.

"Lori's Aunt Rose and I talked for a while
at the cemetery, and she mentioned that she’d met Burnelle. It
sounds like Burnelle is pretty wrapped up in her son Eric."

Holly snorted. "You could say that. I'd say
Burnelle thinks the sun rises and falls according to what Eric is
doing each day.” She took a bite of her cheeseburger and chewed on
it. "She got him his job, you know, and the way she talks you'd
think he was head landscaper instead of assistant grounds
person."

Holly slurped at her shake, then looked up
at Maggie, grinning at a memory. "Once he got chewed out for
something – I don't know what, maybe he dug up the wrong plants or
something. Well, he complained to Mamma, and she goes running to
the manager saying Eric's boss was obviously incompetent, that he
couldn't give clear instructions, and so on. Well, I hear the
supervisor got a warning, and Eric's been digging up whatever he
pleases ever since."

Maggie winced. She had come across a few
mothers like that through school. They thought they were doing the
right thing for their kids, getting them out of detentions, blaming
their failures on their teachers. Instead of helping, however, the
kids often ended up with even more problems in their life.

"Was that supervisor Jack?" she asked.

Holly looked up, surprised. "Yeah. You know
Jack?"

Maggie nodded. She knew Jack didn't like
Eric much, and was uneasy talking about him. This was one good
reason, but Maggie had the feeling there was even more to it.

"What do you think of Eric?" Maggie
asked.

"Me? I barely know him. I try to keep my
distance from both of them, him and his mother.” Holly started
digging in her purse for her cigarettes, and Maggie sensed she was
being evasive.

"Holly, you know I'm trying to find out as
much about the hotel and the people there as I can because I want
to identify Lori's murderer. I've had some questions about Eric but
haven't found out very much about him yet. Anything you could add
might make a big difference."

"Yeah, well, I wish I could help you, but I
can't.” Holly took a long drag on her cigarette and looked away
with a stony expression that said subject closed. Maggie was
puzzled but decided to drop it, at least for now. She finished her
lunch, nibbling at the remaining potato chips and dill pickle and
keeping the conversation light and neutral. Holly gradually
loosened up again, and by the time they were back in the car she
was chattering cheerfully.

She had started giving Maggie directions to
her mother's house when she stopped. "You know what?" she said. "If
I go there, there's probably going to be nobody home, or if there
is my mom and me will find something to get in a fight about. I'd
rather do something different, go somewhere. What do you
think?"

Maggie looked over, surprised. "You mean with
me?"

"Yeah, if you want. You got to get back to
the hotel for something?"

"No," Maggie considered. "I guess not. Not
right away, anyway. What did you have in mind?"

"I don't know. It's your car. You decide.
Anything, as long as it's not Hagerstown and shopping for
tires."

"Hagerstown. Doesn't Rob's mother live
there?"

"Yeah, I think he mentioned that once. But I
don't think he grew up there 'cause he didn't seem to know the town
too well. So, where should we go?"

Maggie thought for a minute, then grinned at
Holly. "I don't know about you, but I know what I'd like to do.
It's something I thought about when I was first driving up here.
I'd like to go see Antietam."

"Antietam? The battlefield?"

"Yes. Have you ever been there?"

"Oh, yeah. They dragged us there once in
junior high. I don't remember much about it, just a lot of
cornfields and stuff."

"Do you mind going again? I've never
been."

Holly thought a moment, then kicked off her
shoes. "Sure, why not? Maybe we’ll run into a couple of cute guys,
who knows."

Maggie laughed and handed the map to her.
"Get me there in twenty minutes and they're both yours."

As they drove Maggie hoped spending this
time with Holly, talking about unrelated things, would gradually
win over the girl's trust and she would divulge things that Maggie
was sure she was holding back. She had had success with that method
once or twice at school, talking to a student who seemed
unmotivated about school work, gradually finding out, through
casual after-class chats about practically nothing, what the real
problem was. Maggie's final goal this time, though, was much
greater than raising grades.

They pulled into the parking lot of the
visitors’ center in exactly seventeen minutes, and Maggie joked
about the right incentives producing great results. "Looks like the
cute guys haven't got here yet, though," she said, glancing at the
scattered tourists, "unless those two will do?” She pointed out a
pair of toddlers in sailor suits, riding in the stroller pushed by
their mother, and Holly grinned.

Maggie spotted the pay phone in front of the
center and, climbing out of the car, said, "Just give me a minute.”
She thought she'd better call Dyna and let her know about her
detour so she wouldn't worry. Dyna was getting more and more
mother-hen-like, which Maggie found both comforting and
amusing.

She fished change from her skirt pocket,
pushed the coins into the slot and dialed the Highview. Maggie had
a quirky but handy memory for phone numbers, part of her natural
bent for numbers in general, she figured. `Normal people remember
names and faces, Maggie remembers birthdates and phone numbers,"
Joe often teased. Having called the Highview once for her
reservations, the number was now etched in her mind. She asked the
hotel operator to connect her with Dyna's room, and when, not
surprisingly, there was no answer, left a message saying she'd be
back late in the afternoon.

She and Holly strolled into the visitors’
center, looked around at the memorabilia for a while, then rented a
recorder and cassette for a driving tour of the area.

They drove off from the center slowly,
following the sign to the first designated stop, Dunker church. It
sat peacefully near the road, surrounded by a tidy green lawn, with
a cannon sitting nearby the only testament that something other
than prayer and church picnics had taken place there at one time.
They listened to the voice on the cassette recount the skirmishes
that had occurred, then drove slowly on, following arrows on the
road to the next stop.