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Authors: Bill WENHAM
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tonight, or early tomorrow if that would be easier on you.” Carl told her.
“Alright,” she said, and took hold of his hand. Her tears had stopped and her voice was steady now. “Whichever is best for you. I really don’t mind. I’m really sorry I gave you such a hard time when you came to the door. I didn’t mean it but you know how it is when a woman is living alone. You just don’t invite strange men into the house. Not even policemen if you don’t have to. Not these days, you don’t. It wasn’t you, it’s just the times we live in, isn’t it?”
Carl nodded. “It’s alright, I understand. I’ll go outside and wait in the cruiser, get it warmed up . You can come on out when you’re ready.”
She squeezed his hand gratefully and went to pack a bag. Carl went back out and started the cruiser. Then he called Judy on the radio.
“Hi, Jude, Carl here. Can you hear me okay?”
“Bit of static, Carl, but, yes, I can hear you well enough. What’s up?”
“I’m bringing Erica Caspar back up with me. She’s the victim’s sister. She’s agreed to do the ID for us. I’m taking her over to Burlington now and I’ll get Almost to run her back down here in the morning, I think.”
“What’s she like, Carl?” Judy asked.
“Nice lady, when you get to know her, I guess. Why do you ask?”
“Well, Carl, if she’s got to be up here overnight, she can bed down at my place if she wants. I’ve got plenty of room and Almost can pick her up here in the morning. Better yet, why don’t you bring her here for s upper as well? I can rustle something for us all while you’re in Burlington. Run it by her and see what she thinks and Carl, call me when you are leaving Burlington so I can time the meal. I think I’ll ask Almost to drop by for a piece of pie and he can meet our guest at the same time. That be alright with you? It must be just terrible to lose a sister like that, poor woman.”
“Okay and thanks, Jude, that’s very nice of you. I’ll tell her and get back to you.”
It was very nice of her, Carl thought. One of these days, he was going to have to discuss the economic use of radio time with her as well but not today. Not with one of Jude’s delicious suppers in the offing. Definitely not today!
Chapter Ten
Back on the highway, David Gates, the man driving the old red Ford tractor, had reached an intersection. He climbed down from the tractor’s seat and trudged through the snow to a large road sign.
Once again he was thankful for the old leather gloves that he’d found. He reached up and brushed his gloved hands over the face of the sign. The bulk of the snow dropped away immediately, revealing the highway information underneath.
It was only important to someone like himself, a stranger to the area. All the locals knew exactly whe re they were and what roads they were on. He recalled a visit he’d made to Barbados once. Some of the local people there turned all the road signs around. Consequently, any visitors hiring their own cars to drive instead of using the local taxis got themselves hopelessly lost. He, himself, had driven for forty five minutes, only to find himself right back where he’d started.
In Vermont, as in any other State, visitors perhaps would know the Interstates, but unless they had reason to go off them, they’d probably never use the secondary highways like this one.
The sign informed him he was at the junction of 100 and 15. These were more direct routes rather than highways, but if he continued on down, he’d hit Interstate 89. Ahead of him were the small towns of Hyde Park and Morrisville. Neither of the names meant a thing to him but a further sign informed him Stowe was about another fifteen miles further down the 100 highway. He recognized that name, at least, as being in the Green Mountain ski area.
What in the world was he doing way up here anyway, he thought. And how had he got up to this part of Vermont? His home in Rutland was close to seventy
“Alright,” she said, and took hold of his hand. Her tears had stopped and her voice was steady now. “Whichever is best for you. I really don’t mind. I’m really sorry I gave you such a hard time when you came to the door. I didn’t mean it but you know how it is when a woman is living alone. You just don’t invite strange men into the house. Not even policemen if you don’t have to. Not these days, you don’t. It wasn’t you, it’s just the times we live in, isn’t it?”
Carl nodded. “It’s alright, I understand. I’ll go outside and wait in the cruiser, get it warmed up . You can come on out when you’re ready.”
She squeezed his hand gratefully and went to pack a bag. Carl went back out and started the cruiser. Then he called Judy on the radio.
“Hi, Jude, Carl here. Can you hear me okay?”
“Bit of static, Carl, but, yes, I can hear you well enough. What’s up?”
“I’m bringing Erica Caspar back up with me. She’s the victim’s sister. She’s agreed to do the ID for us. I’m taking her over to Burlington now and I’ll get Almost to run her back down here in the morning, I think.”
“What’s she like, Carl?” Judy asked.
“Nice lady, when you get to know her, I guess. Why do you ask?”
“Well, Carl, if she’s got to be up here overnight, she can bed down at my place if she wants. I’ve got plenty of room and Almost can pick her up here in the morning. Better yet, why don’t you bring her here for s upper as well? I can rustle something for us all while you’re in Burlington. Run it by her and see what she thinks and Carl, call me when you are leaving Burlington so I can time the meal. I think I’ll ask Almost to drop by for a piece of pie and he can meet our guest at the same time. That be alright with you? It must be just terrible to lose a sister like that, poor woman.”
“Okay and thanks, Jude, that’s very nice of you. I’ll tell her and get back to you.”
It was very nice of her, Carl thought. One of these days, he was going to have to discuss the economic use of radio time with her as well but not today. Not with one of Jude’s delicious suppers in the offing. Definitely not today!
Chapter Ten
Back on the highway, David Gates, the man driving the old red Ford tractor, had reached an intersection. He climbed down from the tractor’s seat and trudged through the snow to a large road sign.
Once again he was thankful for the old leather gloves that he’d found. He reached up and brushed his gloved hands over the face of the sign. The bulk of the snow dropped away immediately, revealing the highway information underneath.
It was only important to someone like himself, a stranger to the area. All the locals knew exactly whe re they were and what roads they were on. He recalled a visit he’d made to Barbados once. Some of the local people there turned all the road signs around. Consequently, any visitors hiring their own cars to drive instead of using the local taxis got themselves hopelessly lost. He, himself, had driven for forty five minutes, only to find himself right back where he’d started.
In Vermont, as in any other State, visitors perhaps would know the Interstates, but unless they had reason to go off them, they’d probably never use the secondary highways like this one.
The sign informed him he was at the junction of 100 and 15. These were more direct routes rather than highways, but if he continued on down, he’d hit Interstate 89. Ahead of him were the small towns of Hyde Park and Morrisville. Neither of the names meant a thing to him but a further sign informed him Stowe was about another fifteen miles further down the 100 highway. He recognized that name, at least, as being in the Green Mountain ski area.
What in the world was he doing way up here anyway, he thought. And how had he got up to this part of Vermont? His home in Rutland was close to seventy
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