Free Dancing in the Dark by Mary Jane Clark Page B

how to put the charm into a hotel.”

CHAPTER
23
     
    Helen had finished making up the beds and was in the kitchen stacking
the breakfast dishes in the sink when she heard three raps on the front
door frame. She pulled a tea towel from the rack, wiping her hands and
wondering if Jonathan and the girls were back so soon from their walk
into town to buy a newspaper. Why didn’t they just come in? Opening the
wooden door, she was greeted by a blast of hot air and two uniformed
police officers, who stood on the narrow porch. “Mrs. Richey?”
    “Yes. Is something wrong?”
    “We’d like to ask you a few questions, ma’am.”
    Helen noticed the sheen perspiration on the foreheads of both
policemen. “Would you like to come inside, where it’s cooler?” she
asked.
    “Thank you, ma’am. We would.”
    One man was a good five or six inches taller than the other, but
both were broad-shouldered and solidly built. Their looming presence
crowded the small front room of the tent.
    “Please, sit down.” Helen indicated the wicker chairs. “Would you
like something to drink? I have lemonade all made.”
    “No thank you, ma’am,” said the taller one.
    Helen took a seat on the edge of the bottom bunk bed and looked
across the room at the policemen. “All right then. What can I help you
with?”
    “Mrs. Richey, did you have a babysitter here last night?” the
shorter one asked as his partner took a notebook from his shirt pocket.
    “Yes. Carly. Carly Neath. Why?”
    They ignored her question and continued with their own. “Carly’s
mother says her daughter has worked for you before. Is that right?”
    “Yes, Carly’s been here several times this summer. My girls are
crazy about her.”
    “What time was she here?”
     
    “She came at seven o’clock and stayed until we got home around eleven. Actually, it was just about
eleven-thirty.” Helen absentmindedly fingered the fringe of the kitchen
towel as the front door opened and her husband and daughters entered
the tent. Jonathan stopped short when he saw the policemen but quickly
introduced himself and shook hands with the officers.
    “Why don’t you girls go outside and water the flowers while Mommy
and I talk to these nice policemen?” he suggested.
    As soon as the girls were out of earshot, Helen explained what had
been going on. “The police want to know about Carly. I was just telling
them that we got home around eleven-thirty.”
    “So you got home about eleven-thirty,” the officer taking the notes
pondered out loud. “And then what happened?”
    “I wanted to walk her home, but Carly insisted on going alone. We
paid her, and she ran out the door before we could stop her,” Jonathan
answered.
    Helen bit her lower lip and didn’t contradict her husband. “Please,
tell me. Has something happened to Carly?” she asked.
    The officers rose from their chairs. “We hope not, ma’am. But her
parents say Carly didn’t come home last night. That’s not necessarily
something to get riled up about. Kids pull this kind of stunt all the
time, and normally, we’d wait to see if she turned up later today or
tomorrow. But with what happened earlier this week with the Patterson
girl, we’re getting involved right away.”
     
    “I thought Leslie Patterson faked her own abduction. That’s what I
heard anyway,” Helen said.
    “We can’t comment on an ongoing investigation, ma’am.”
    “No, of course not. I understand that. But if something has happened
to Carly—if she was kidnapped or something— maybe there really is some
sort of lunatic out there.”
    The policeman didn’t respond. But Jonathan put his arm around his
wife’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, honey,” he said.
    As Helen watched the officers walk down the steps, she replayed the
events of the night before in her mind. The babysitter had rushed out
before Jonathan had gotten back from parking the car. In fact, it had
been a good thirty minutes after Carly left before Jonathan