Who’s That Girl Page 3
At least she could take comfort in knowing that she hadn’t caused Millie’s accident, though the unjust accusation still stung. Kate hated thinking that Millie thought she was so careless about safety.
Kate swallowed back the beginnings of resentment. Millie had been shaken up by her fall, whether she wanted to admit it or not. And she was probably mortified to know that someone had witnessed her graceless slide across the floor. Given the secretary’s prickly nature, it shouldn’t have surprised Kate that she could lash out and cast blame, whether or not the accusation was deserved.
It was a shame that the accident had happened, regardless of what caused it. Kate remembered the way Millie had favored her right leg when she strode out the door. She had obviously been in some pain at that point, though her pride wouldn’t let her acknowledge it. Kate truly hoped Millie wasn’t hurt worse than she let on. The memory of the church secretary clutching her hand to her chest was one she wouldn’t be able to banish from her mind anytime soon. Had Millie been having some sort of heart palpitation? And had the fall brought it on?
Kate ran water in the last sink and reached for the can of cleanser. She’d started to sprinkle the white powder over the upper portion of the porcelain when she noticed the water washing away a spatter of reddish brown spots.
Paint, most likely. With her mind still on Millie’s mishap, Kate wondered idly why someone would have been washing off paint there when it seemed all too obvious that no maintenance had been performed around the campground in some time.
Only when the last of the flecks had disappeared down the drain in a pinkish swirl did she snap to attention and realize that the drops may have been blood.
Kate stared down at the water, now running clear. Blood would be even more difficult to explain than paint. Feeling a little rattled, she turned off the water, then shook more cleanser into the sink and began to scrub.
It couldn’t have been blood, surely not. Why on earth had her thoughts leaped in that direction? Kate wielded the sponge with vigor and chided herself for her overactive imagination.
The grim-looking skies and isolated location combined with the mystery of the injured girl must have influenced her thinking. During the summer, Ash Grove would be filled with people, but at the moment, it seemed more like an ideal setting for a gothic novel.
Yes, that had to explain it. The flecks must have been paint after all. Or mud, or even rust—something that had nothing to do with blood.
Kate wiped the last traces of moisture from the outside of the sink and looked around, pleased by the progress she had made. Instead of the dingy room she found when she first arrived, the walls and sinks now sparkled, and a clean, fresh scent filled the air. All she had to do now was get rid of the trash in the overflowing barrel and then mop the floor.
Kate pulled a black trash bag from the roll in her caddy and stretched it over the mouth of the garbage can. Wrapping her arms around the cumbersome barrel, she tipped it to one side, grunting when she found it was every bit as heavy as it looked. She just barely managed to lift the bottom of the barrel enough so that she could pour the accumulated trash into the bag.
Most of it, anyway. As she poured, the weight of the trash pulled the bag off the can, and several items—a paper cup, a ziplock sandwich bag, and numerous wads of crumpled paper towels skittered across the floor. Kate set the barrel upright and bent to gather the scattered debris, grateful she was wearing her rubber gloves.
Even with gloves on, the task wasn’t a pleasant one. Picking up the wadded paper towels by the edge, Kate dropped them into the bag, then she reached for the plastic sandwich bag. There, that took care of the lot.
No, not quite. One of the papers had escaped and gone under the sink. Kate stooped to retrieve it and froze with her arm outstretched.
Slowly she lowered herself to a kneeling position and peered at the paper wad under the exposed sink pipes. The other clumps had been paper towels, used at the sink and tossed away. But this...
Kate leaned closer. This looked more like a scrap torn from a notebook. She could see fragments of writing on the part that lay exposed. But it wasn’t the sight of black ink on the blue-lined paper that had caught her attention. It was the irregular splotches dotting the paper that made her stomach clench.
Reddish brown splotches, the same color as those she had noticed in the sink. The color of blood.
If it had been a paper towel, she would have assumed that someone had used it to blot a cut. But not a piece of notebook paper. Her heart pounding, Kate reached out and lifted the folded sheet carefully between the thumb and forefinger of her gloves. Drawing it toward her, she stared down at the lined paper, hoping she’d been mistaken.
She hadn’t. A closer look only reinforced her earlier suspicion. The spots on the paper looked exactly like drops of blood.
That doesn’t necessarily mean something bad happened here, she told herself.
Kate took a deep breath and willed her heart to settle back into a normal rhythm. She had been involved in her share of mysteries since moving to Copper Mill, but that didn’t mean danger lurked behind every bush.
Kate tugged gently on the paper and teased apart the tight folds, telling herself she was going to find something totally innocuous—a grocery list maybe, or some other brief memo. Maybe the person who’d thrown it away had suffered a simple paper cut. She spread the wrinkled sheet open. Her mouth went dry.
Across the lined paper, someone had scrawled one line in black ink: “Find Kate Hanlon.”
Chapter Four
The air rushed out of Kate’s lungs. She stared at the paper, barely able to believe her eyes. But there it was in black and white: her name in the middle of the bloodstained note.
“What on earth is going on here, Lord?” Her lips trembled as she whispered the words. Immediately, her thoughts snapped back to the injured girl who had called for her in the hospital. Was it just a coincidence, or could there be a connection between her and the note? But the girl had been found along the side of Hamilton Road, nearly two miles away. Surely she couldn’t have walked that far in her condition.
Could she have been a victim of a hit-and-run accident? That would explain why Skip hadn’t been able to find a car anywhere nearby, but it wouldn’t explain the presence of a bloodied note this far away.
Another thought chilled Kate. The girl’s injuries could have been the result of a beating, not an accident. If that were the case, could the person who inflicted the wounds have attacked her there at the campground and then left her out along the roadside? That would imply a degree of coldheartedness that Kate didn’t even want to contemplate.
She turned her attention back to the note. Skip needed to see it. It didn’t give any indication as to the girl’s identity—if, indeed, it did belong to her—but it might help him start to unravel the mystery.
Kate ran her finger lightly across the wrinkled paper and wondered about the best way to deliver it to the deputy. Refolding it and tucking it away in her pocket was out of the question. This was evidence, and it needed to be treated carefully. She hoped she hadn’t done any damage by spreading it open as she had. At least she’d been wearing gloves!
Kate cast around for something to put the note in, and her eyes lit on a corner of the empty sandwich bag peeking out from the rest of the trash. She leaned over to retrieve it and held it up to the light coming in through the door. The interior appeared to be clean, except for a few stray crumbs. Kate shook those out, then slid the note inside and zipped the top together. It wasn’t up to the standards of what she had seen on CSI, but at least the note would be somewhat protected.
Gripping the edge of the sink for leverage, Kate pulled herself to her feet. She gazed around the room, her earlier satisfaction evaporating. She didn’t look forward to telling Skip Spencer that she might have washed away any trace of valuable evidence.
Speaking of Skip...Kate glanced at her watch and guessed that he would have returned to his office at Copper Mill’s town
hall by now. If not, she would have to make the drive to Pine Ridge a second time.
She gathered up her cleaning equipment and toted it back to Paul’s pickup. Livvy looked up from her pruning and waved. She caught up with Kate as Kate was stowing the supplies in the truck bed.
“Finished already?” Livvy’s eyes sparkled. “I know you’re a dynamo when it comes to cleaning, but this must be some kind of record, even for you.”
Kate grinned at her friend. She could always count on Livvy’s buoyant personality to brighten her day. “I hate to disappoint you, but there’s still mopping to be done and trash to be hauled to the dumpster. And I haven’t even started on the men’s restroom yet. Actually, I’m afraid I’m running out on you with my job only half finished.” She held up the plastic bag and told Livvy about her discovery in the ladies’ room.
Livvy let out a low whistle. “That is downright creepy. How did you wind up in the middle of all this?”
“I wish I knew.” Kate glanced over to where she had seen Paul and Sam earlier. The pile of branches had disappeared. They must have moved on to another project. “Would you do me a favor and let Paul know where I’ve gone? I need to take this to Skip right away.”
“Sure.” Livvy reached out and squeezed Kate’s arm. “I’ll take care of finishing the restroom chores, too. Don’t give that another thought. And I’ll be praying that you find out who this girl is and what on earth is going on.”
SKIP HELD UP THE BAG and peered at the note inside. “I’ll have to take it up to the forensics lab in Pine Ridge to be certain, but I think you’re right, Missus Hanlon. It sure looks like blood to me.”
He set the bag down gently on top of his desk. Excitement shone in his eyes when he looked back at Kate. “And you say there’s blood in one of the campground sinks?”
“I can’t be absolutely certain. And that’s was, not is.”
Skip’s mouth dropped open, and Kate shifted uncomfortably on the hard wooden visitor’s chair.
“You see, I was cleaning, and...”
Skip closed his eyes and shook his head. “You mean you scrubbed away evidence?”
Kate swallowed hard and nodded. “It wasn’t intentional though. You know me better than that. I got distracted and didn’t even notice the spots until they were washing away. Even then, I didn’t think too much about it. I thought it was just paint...until I found that.” She nodded toward the bagged note.
Skip picked up a pen and tapped it on the desktop, a gesture Kate had seen Sheriff Roberts perform on more than one occasion. She smothered a grin. Skip wanted so much to be taken seriously by the sheriff. She wondered how many other mannerisms Skip had copied, consciously or not.
“Were the sinks the first thing you cleaned?” Skip asked.
Kate hated to dash the hopeful expression from his face. “I’m afraid not. I had already washed the walls and cleaned the toilets. After the sinks, the only things left to do were mop the floor and take out the trash.”
Skip ran his fingers through his red hair. “Well, that takes care of some of the other evidence that might have been left.” He seemed to notice Kate’s crestfallen expression for the first time. “Don’t take it too hard, Missus Hanlon. We like to have things in their original state as much as possible, but we can still spray the walls and floors to expose the blood evidence. Things like that happen, and there’s nothing anyone can do about it.”
One corner of his lips tilted upward. “Remember that you did find the note and realize it was something important. I have a feeling it may turn out to be a real break for us. And you were wearing gloves when you picked it up. We can check it for fingerprints without worrying about it being contaminated.”
Kate leaned back, breathing freely for the first time since she realized she might have destroyed vital evidence. “So you do think there’s some connection between the note and our mystery girl?”
“I’d be willing to bet on it.” Skip shot her a quick sideways glance and cleared his throat. “If I were a betting man, that is.”
“That was what I thought as soon as I read it,” Kate said, gathering her handbag and looping its strap over her shoulder as she stood up. “When do you think you’ll know something?”
Skip’s lips curved up in a wry grin. He got to his feet and circled the desk to escort Kate to the outer door. “Don’t get in too big a hurry. Real lab work doesn’t always move quite as fast as those cop shows Miz Lambert sets such store by.”
Kate smiled up at him. “Then I’ll try to be patient. I’m just relieved to know that this may help us discover that poor girl’s identity.” Her smile faded and she paused at the door. “Have you heard how she’s doing this afternoon? Has there been any change?”
“I’m afraid not. I talked to the hospital just before you got here, and Dr. McLaughlin says she has a concussion. I hope this note you found will tell us something so we can start sorting out this whole mess.”
Kate nodded, then pursed her lips and drew her eyebrows together. “She has all those injuries, but you said there was no wrecked vehicle in sight.”
Looking up at the young deputy, she voiced the disturbing possibility that had entered her mind at the campground. “Is there a chance she might have been beaten?”
Skip’s mouth set in a determined line, and he thrust out his jaw. “If it turns out someone gave her those cuts and bruises, I’d sure like to get my hands on whoever was responsible.”
“IT STILL DOESN’T MAKE SENSE to me.” Kate used a fork to lift a strand of spaghetti from the pot on the stove and pop it into her mouth. Perfect.
She poured the pasta into a colander and let it drain while Paul set a shaker of parmesan cheese on the table.
“Why would this girl ask for someone she’s never met before?”
“I was ready to look at the call from the hospital as some sort of odd coincidence,” Paul said, “but finding that note tends to put an end to the notion that Skip and Dr. McLaughlin misunderstood what the girl said, doesn’t it?”
“It appears so.” Kate handed him napkins and used a pair of tongs to lift spaghetti onto their plates. Then she topped it with spoonfuls of her homemade marinara sauce. She carried the plates to the oak dining table that had served the Hanlon family for years, then she returned to the counter to retrieve a plate of brownies she’d baked for dessert.
“I’m sure I’ve never seen her before, and yet she mentioned my name,” she said. “Who would ask for a perfect stranger in an emergency like that? Why didn’t she call for a family member?”
“I can’t answer that,” Paul said. He held her chair for her while she slid into her seat. “But I do know one thing.” His smile was tender when he looked at her. “I used the wrong word earlier. We both know there’s no such thing as a coincidence. God is in control, and he has a reason for bringing you into this situation.”
They bowed their heads as Paul said grace and added a prayer for the young woman in the hospital. After he finished, Kate looked over at him.
“I’m glad you feel that I’m supposed to be involved in this, because I’m planning to go back and see her tomorrow after church.”
Paul scooted his chair closer to the table and twirled spaghetti onto his fork. “Even if she hasn’t regained consciousness?”
Kate nodded. She reached for the shaker of parmesan and sprinkled it on her pasta. “Someone ought to check in on her. It would be better, of course, if it could be a person she actually knows—her mother or a sibling or even a friend. But until we know who to contact, she needs someone to stop by from time to time.”
Paul reached for her hand and raised her fingers to his lips. “That tender heart of yours is one of the reasons I fell in love with you.”
Kate pondered the situation while they ate. When she finished her spaghetti, she said, “I keep thinking how I’d feel if Melissa or Rebecca was in dire straits and we didn’t know about it right away. I’d hate to think of either of them lying there alone without anyone to care.”
Kate sampled another bite and focused her attention on sorting out the flavors. How much salt had she put into that batter? She set the brownie down and took a long sip of iced tea, wondering whether she ought to warn Paul.
“You’re absolutely right.” Paul’s voice brought her back to the conversation. “If one of our girls was hurt like that, we wouldn’t want her left on her own.”
“And you’re right about there not being any coincidences,” Kate told him. “God doesn’t make mistakes. He allowed this to happen for some reason.”
Paul chuckled and reached for a brownie. “And my favorite sleuth is just the person to figure out what that reason might be.” He bit into the chocolate treat with relish and chewed twice before his mouth twisted into a grimace.
“Sorry, honey.” Kate winced as he grabbed his glass of iced tea and downed a hearty gulp.
Chapter Five
Livvy buttonholed Kate after the worship service the following morning. “How did it go with Skip yesterday? Have they found out who the girl is yet?”
Kate shook her head. “No, we’re still in the dark, I’m afraid. I’m going up to see her again right after lunch.”
“Even if she’s not awake?”
Kate nodded. “I figure, even if this girl isn’t able to respond, just knowing that someone is there for her might make a difference in how quickly she recovers.”
Livvy’s eyes twinkled. “And God created you to be a mother hen, so he knows that you’re just the person for the job.”
Kate blushed at her friend’s compliment. “Speaking of jobs, I want to thank you for finishing up for me after I bailed out on the cleaning yesterday.”
“No problem. All I wound up doing was to take out the trash and mop the floor. Sam and Eli took pity on me and volunteered to do the men’s side of the building, so I actually got off pretty easy.”