Page 78 of Last Girls Alive

McGaven swiveled in his chair and began skimming the lists. “Well… we have new information about the Elm Hill Mansion.”

“Yes, we do… Now, more than ever, Elm Hill sits at the center of the two homicides.” Katie paused, thinking that there was something blinding that she wasn’t seeing about the mansion. “What about the employees at Elm Hill? Anything?”

“Okay, I was able to track down Margaret Adler, the housekeeper, she’s since retired and is residing at Bella Vista—old folks’ home. Elmer Rydesdale, maintenance and groundskeeper, is still working and I have an address for him. And, finally the tutor, Tatiana Wolf, only worked there for a few weeks before she transferred to Boston for a teaching position.”

“Ms. Wolf will probably not be too much help, but let’s call her and see what she says—perhaps there’s a reason for her leaving that we need to know about.” Katie stood up and studied the county map. “Okay, Bella Vista is close. Where’s Elmer Rydesdale located?”

Reading his notes, McGaven said, “Over in Crowley Creek, about twenty minutes from here.”

“I think we need to get a better idea of what was going on at Elm Hill before it shut down. What better way than talking to ex-employees?”

“No doubt. You just have to know how to ignore the personal BS and get to the root of the matter.”

Katie laughed. “I’m still waiting to hear back from Dr. Samantha Rajal, Mary Rodriguez’s doctor, and see what she has to say about the abortion and the drugs she was taking.” She leaned back in her chair. “Oh, anything new on ‘hunter-gatherer’?”

“Let’s see.” McGaven keyed up several chat rooms and social media sites. “Not much. You know there are people who transcribe every time a certain phrase is used in movies, TV, and even radio shows. I checked that. If I have to read more about what someone thinks of a book, I’m going home.”

Katie leaned in to read his computer. “It can’t be that bad.”

“Oh, you have no idea. I cannot find anything about the books—or any bookstore who carries them. The only thing I can find out from these chat areas is that there’s an old bookstore over on the south end. It’s a mystery shop for only ‘invited’ people. There’s no sign or indication on the building that there’s any type of business there.”

“What do you mean?” Katie said.

“Well, it’s where people dress up as some character from books and mingle. But the owner, a Donald L. Holmes, supposedly has the most extensive book collection, especially anything written from 1940 through the 1960s.”

“Are you kidding me?”

“I just report the facts.”

“And his last name is Holmes?” Katie rolled her eyes.

“Actually, I checked his background, and yes, his name really is Donald Lee Holmes.”

“Okay, let’s get on the phone, divide up calls, and see what we can do today. It’s still early and we can cover a lot of ground if we get started now—sound good? You up to it?”

Picking up his cell phone, McGaven said with enthusiasm, “I’m on it.”

Later that morning, Katie turned the sedan down a narrow lane without a sign and continued along a driveway that seemed more like a walking path than anything fit for a car. She slowed her speed. The instructions were to take a left at the broken fence and then proceed until there were four trees in a circle.

Crowley Creek was a small town of 200 acres that ran along the edge of the county. It technically wasn’t a town, but it had a population of sixteen people incorporating two families, along with a gas station, feed store, and a small grocery and supply store that also doubled as the post office.

Katie stopped the car to look out the window at the cluster of trees. “What do you think? Does that look like four pine trees in a circle?” She wasn’t so sure.

McGaven craned his neck and took a moment before answering, “I think so…”

“You spoke to Mr. Rydesdale,” she said.

“I did. He was difficult to understand because he seemed so excited to talk to us, but at least he was willing to talk.”

Katie exhaled loudly. “Well, let’s keep going. You can’t see anything in between all these trees.”

The sedan inched forward, squeezing by several more trees, and then it opened to a beautiful valley. A dozen acres of expertly landscaped garden with rows of vegetables, flowers, and patches of meadow greeted them. A large yellow 1920s farmhouse with white trim sat to the north end of the property, and several trucks were parked in front.

“Wow,” she said, looking around. Finding a place to park, she sat for a moment admiring the area.

“Wow is right. I’ve never seen anything like this except—maybe in a movie.”

Katie and McGaven got out of the car and continued to marvel at the area.