Messages from Henry

  “See what I mean, Warren?”

  “Yes, Tammy, I see they love one another, but you see how exhausted he is. I just know the veterinarian would advise we leave him inside the loft.”

  “Okay, let’s put Cecilia in the loft. I’d like her to have the opportunity to find Evelyn and bring me a note, but this is too painful to watch.”

  “Looks like we’re going to have to,” Warren says as he walks towards the two lovers.

  *

  By the third day of Henry’s return from Wildlife Images, I can no longer stand to see Henry and Cecilia confined. “You two love birds want to get out of that loft and peck at the grass and bugs, don’t you?”

  When I enter the loft, all of the pigeons scatter except for Cecilia and Henry. They rush past me, nearly making me fall. As soon as I finish latching the loft door, I turn to the two of them. To my surprise, Henry is not waiting with Cecilia. Instead, he’s already flying away.

  Cecilia turns her tiny head up and looks at me. I can see sadness in her bright yellow eyes. “Don’t be sad, Cecilia. Henry will return soon.”

  The next morning, I decide to run to the market before feeding Evelyn’s pigeons.

  After putting away the groceries, I head for Evelyn’s. As I head for the loft, I see Henry and Cecilia sitting next to one another by Evelyn’s back porch. Their feet are tucked beneath them and their breasts are puffed out and shining in the morning sun. Cecilia has her head bent down and Henry is straddling her neck with his head. As I get closer, their eyes pop open. “I see you two love birds cuddling. No need to rise on my account.”

  As I’m pouring the feed into the bowls inside the loft, Henry begins to peck at my ankles. “Ouch!” I shout. When I turn around, I notice a note attached to Henry’s left leg. “Henry, why didn’t you bring the note to my house?”

  I drop the feed bucket and grab Henry. After rushing home and securing him in Cinnamon’s cat carrier, I load Henry into my Jeep and head for Warren’s home. It’s his day off, but I know he’ll want to see the note.

  Warren’s wife answers my knock on the front door. Without hesitating, she opens the door wide for me to enter and calls for Warren.

  Warren reads the note to himself. “He has her at the Brandon Cheese Factory. That’s eighty miles from here. I’m calling for a helicopter and a forensic team. It will take us two hours to drive there on those curvy, icy roads. Go on back home, Tammy and I’ll call you with our findings.”

  At seven-thirty the next morning, I awake to the ringing of my phone. Warren tells me Evelyn is still missing and they didn’t find any evidence she had been inside the cheese factory. My heart sinks.

  “I’m so disappointed to hear this, Warren.”

  “I was disappointed, too, until one of the helicopter pilots spotted a tan sedan speeding down a dirt road, ten miles from the cheese factory. When the driver saw the helicopter circling above, he ditched the car and ran into the forest on foot. He was dragging a woman behind him.”

  “Oh my God! That has to be Evelyn.”

  “There’s a search team canvassing the area this minute. Sit tight and I’ll call you this evening around six.”

  When I go to feed Evelyn’s pigeons later that day, Henry is missing. Cecilia is frantic. She begins running circles around me. She occasionally pauses to look up at me with dilated eyes and unkempt feathers. As I’m reaching for the latch on the loft door, my cell phone rings. “Tammy, Warren here.”

  My heart begins to race and I’m trying to prepare myself for the worse possible news regarding Evelyn. “What is it, Warren?”

  “We got a call from Scott Bury just a little while ago. He got a ransom note in the mail and he should be in my office this evening.”

  “I hope there will be fingerprints on the note, Warren.”

  “Well, all we can really hope for is that Scott comes up with the money, pays the ransom and Evelyn is set free. In the meantime, maybe Henry will bring another note from Evelyn and she will be rescued.” Warren’s silence begins to worry me.

  “Scott will pay the ransom, won’t he, Warren?”

  Warren ignores the question, “Call me if you receive any more notes, Tammy and try not to worry. I’ll call you right away if Evelyn is set free.”

  *

  Henry brings another note from Evelyn the next morning as I’m sweeping my front porch. I immediately put Henry inside Cinnamon’s cat carrier and call Sheriff Kincaid.

  When Warren arrives, he has Investigator Hobbs with him.

  Hobbs instantly picks Henry up with his gloved hands and heads for his vehicle. Within a few moments he returns and says to Warren, “All Evelyn’s note says is freight car 1193. Do you have any idea what she’s talking about?”

  Warren answers, “I know exactly.” He turns to me. “Tammy, you remember when all of us kids used to play in the old abandoned boxcars over by the Rogue River Post Office.”

  “Oh, yeah, hidden by all those tall pine trees along Depot Bride Road.”

  Warren responds, “Evelyn, you can follow us there, but I want you to stay inside the post office until I come to get you.”

  *

  I wait nervously, pacing the floor of the small post office, dodging patrons as they rush by to get to their postal boxes and dump their junk mail in a nearby trashcan.

  Just as I’m stepping outside for a little fresh air, I see Warren pull into the parking lot and I rush over to him.

  As I stare at him with questioning eyes, he says, “No sign of Evelyn, but just as we drove around to the boxcar side of the trees, a tan sedan bolted out from behind the last car. We chased him, but he got away again. We searched all of the boxcars and didn’t find Evelyn or any evidence.”

  CHAPTER 5

  It’s a beautiful December morning. There’s a slight breeze, no frost and it looks to be a sunny day. As I bend down to pick a bouquet of tulips, Henry lands at my feet. I drop my gardening snips. I see a note secured to his left leg. I run into the house and grab a pair of plastic gloves, my cell phone, and Cinnamon’s cat carrier. When I get back to Henry, he’s pecking at some birdseed I spilled the day before on my cobblestone walkway. “Let’s see what that note says, Henry.” As I’m untying the note, Henry is stretching his leg forward, now used to the routine. I read the note aloud, “Butterfly farm.”

  Warren answers on the first ring and before he greets me, I blurt, “Butterfly farm. I just got a note from Henry that Evelyn is at the Rocky Mountain Butterfly Farm.” Warren is silent. “I know what you’re thinking. I bought a box of plastic gloves. I’ll put Henry into the cat carrier just as soon as I hang up.”

  “I’ll pick up Henry as soon as I can. You wouldn’t happen to know what time the butterfly farm opens on a Saturday morning, would you?”

  “They open at nine every morning.” There’s no response and I see the call has been ended.

  My cellphone rings three hours later. It’s Warren. “Tammy, I think we might have a break in the case. I’m not allowed to divulge any more information than that, but we’re very excited about it. When I got back to my office, Evelyn’s son, Scott was there. The ransom note is being checked for evidence. He’s staying in his mother’s home and I plan to go over there later this evening to talk to him some more.”

  “I’ll wait until morning to go over there and show him where the feed is.”

  “I would like for you to continue to feed the pigeons, Tammy. Henry has brought notes to you there more often than at your home. You can talk to Scott after he and I have a discussion.”

  That evening I’m sitting in my recliner reading a magazine when I come across an article about Scott. The magazine isn’t a reliable source of information, but I begin reading it anyway. My pulse increases when I get to the part about his gambling addiction. I tell myself repeatedly to calm down and that it’s possible he hasn’t lost as much as they claim.

  When I get to Evelyn’s the next morning, Warren is waving goodbye as he drives away.

  When I see Sco
tt coming towards me, I realize not only has he grown a lot taller, but he’s also smiling at me with dimples in his cheeks that are hard not to notice. It’s a bit odd he would be smiling, but maybe he’s remembering how I used to sneak a baggie full of chocolate chip cookies into one of his pockets before he went home after a day of pulling weeds in my vegetable garden. I go to shake his hand and he unfolds his long, muscular arms to embrace me. I haven’t been hugged by this handsome a man in quite a while and I feel awkward. His aftershave smells nice and before releasing me, he gives me a peck on the cheek. “Hello, Tammy.”

  “It’s good to see you again, Scott. I wish we were meeting again under much better circumstances. I’m certain Warren has told you Henry is trying to help us find your mother.”

  “He mentioned the name Henry, but I don’t have a clue who he is.”

  I’m not surprised, for I can’t remember the last time Scott visited Evelyn. “Follow me. I see Henry and his mate snuggled up to one another by the blackberry bushes.”

  “Okay, I get it now. Henry’s delivering messages. My parents spent hours training those pigeons.”

  “Yes, they did and all that hard work just might pay off one day soon. The way I see it, Warren will eventually catch the kidnapper or once you pay the ransom, she’ll be set free. Congratulations on your success. You always said you wanted to be rich and famous whenever I asked what you wanted to be when you grew up.”

  “Well, I might be famous, but I’m no longer rich. A publishing company ripped me off last year. I think the attorney that reviewed my contract was in on the scam.”

  Scott is scratching the top of his head and avoiding eye contact. This is exactly what he did as a child when he was telling a lie. “I’m sorry to hear that, Scott. If you don’t have the ransom, maybe you can raise it somehow.”

  As Scott steps closer to Henry, Henry shrieks and flies away. “Go find my mom, Henry and be quick about it!” I don’t like Scott’s tone and I can easily tell he doesn’t share his folks’ love of pigeons.

  Later that evening, I call Warren’s home number. He answers. “Warren, I had a little chat with Scott today and he says he doesn’t have the ransom.” There is silence. “Last night I read a magazine article about him and it said he has a gambling addiction and has lost a lot of money over the years.” I receive a grunt of acknowledgement and nothing more. “I know for a fact the magazine has a lousy reputation for trustworthy information, but I’m wondering what you’ve found out about him.”

  “Tammy, we’re doing our homework and I want you to calm down. Please do not broach the subject of gambling with Scott. Let the investigators do their job and you keep Henry happy and well.”

  Out of frustration, I jab my finger on the “end call” button of the phone without saying another word and take a deep breath.

  CHAPTER 6

  It’s been three days since I last spoke to Warren. As I’m packing away my winter clothes, I resist the urge to call him. I’m worried about Henry. He hasn’t been at Evelyn’s in the last two mornings and neither has Scott.

  As I’m placing my last heavy jacket into a duffle bag, I hear the crunching of gravel in my driveway. I hurry to the bedroom window, facing the front of the house. It’s Warren. I meet him at my front door.

  “Good afternoon, Warren.”

  Warren gives me a brief hug without saying a word and guides me inside. He closes the door and says, “I need to ask you some questions.”

  “I’ll make a fresh pot of coffee.”

  “Tammy, when did you see Scott last?”

  “Well, four days ago his car was parked in Evelyn’s driveway. I haven’t seen him or the car since.”

  “When did you see Henry last?”

  “Three mornings ago. I’ve been so worried all morning about him and of course, Evelyn.” I ask Warren, “When did you last speak with Scott?”

  Warren doesn’t answer and heads for the front door. The screen shuts with a bang and I hear his voice trailing behind him, “I’ll be in touch.”

  At ten o’clock the next morning, I get another visit from Warren. As I’m pouring him a cup of coffee, he holds up a clear plastic bag for my inspection. “Take a look at the second ransom note and tell me if the wording or anything about it is familiar.”

  I read the note to myself and realize it contains ransom drop-off instructions. “When did Scott give this note to you?”

  “Please, Tammy, just concentrate on the note.”

  I read the note again, more slowly this time and the only thing that catches my eye is the sentence: “Place the unmarked, small denomination bills in a leatherette case.” Scott always referred to his shoes as leatherette instead of leather. A show of his mother’s honesty. They couldn’t afford to buy their son real leather shoes. No need to explain this to Warren, for his son, Dean, attended the same day care as Scott.

  Warren is grinning. “You see something familiar, don’t you?”

  I ask, “Do you think Scott wrote this and somehow involved in his mother’s kidnapping?”

  Warren sips his coffee as he stares at me over the rim of his steaming mug. “I found this note on Evelyn’s dining room table. Scott isn’t answering his cell phone and his suitcase is nowhere to be found inside the house.”

  My mind is racing and I raise my voice, “If he has taken Henry away and harmed him in any way, I’ll track him down and…!” Warren grabs me and hugs me tight. As he’s patting my back, I take a deep breath.

  He places his hands on my shoulders and turns me towards the living room. “Look, Tammy — there’s no reason to think that.” I see Henry on my banister, stretching his neck to see through the front picture window. As I’m walking towards Henry, I hear the snapping of Warren pulling his rubber gloves on. When I step out onto my porch, Henry is cooing and his eyes are bright and cheerful. As I bend down to talk to Henry, I smell a strong odor of fish.

  Warren removes a note with his gloved hands and reads it aloud, “Fish hatchery, hurry!” I’m rushing to retrieve the cat carrier while Warren holds Henry.

  At nine o’clock that evening my phone rings. Before I have a chance to say a word, Warren says, “I know it’s late, Tammy, but I need to come over right away.” My heart starts pounding in my chest and I’m thinking the worst.

  “I’m wide awake, Warren. Come on over.”

  I’m pacing the floor and Cinnamon is watching every move I make. I turn the radio on, hoping music will sooth my nerves. Nothing seems to be working. When I hear the sound of Warren’s feet crunching gravel, I race to the front door.

  “Tammy, I’m afraid I have some real bad news.” My eyes grow large, my hands are shaking and the room starts to spin. “Sit next to me on the sofa. As far as we know, Evelyn is still alive, so please stop shaking. When we got to the fish hatchery, we found Scott. There’s no easy way to break the news to you. He’s dead. He was lying next to the trout tank. We found two gunshot wounds to his chest.”

  I stammer, “What…what was he doing there?”

  “We found fake one-hundred dollar bills lying on the ground, next to his suitcase. The suitcase was full of the same. He was attempting to get his mother back and went about it all the wrong way.”

  I’m speechless and thinking about how wrong Warren and I have been in thinking Scott was involved in the kidnapping. My mind returns to the wording in the second ransom note. If Scott didn’t write the ransom notes, who did? Who else would use the word, “leatherette”? I then think about how much Scott loved to help me with my garden. I paid him, but I think he would have done it anyway. With him being an only child, he had many stories to tell. With his cheeks bright red, from the summer sun and his big blue eyes full of mischief; I’ll never forget him. A lump forms in my throat and I struggle to keep from crying.

  Warren interrupts my thinking, “We can now rule Scott out as an accomplice.”

  “What I’m wondering is if the kidnapper worded the second ransom note, using the word leatherette, to make us thi
nk Scott was involved. If that’s the case, our next question is who all knew that he used that word?”

  As soon as Warren leaves, I search my address book for the number of my old friend, Zoe. She worked in the preschool when Scott attended. I also jot down the numbers of many mothers of children who also attended at the same time. I plan to call all of them first thing the next morning. The list of possible suspects can be narrowed down by eliminating those no longer living anywhere near Scott or Evelyn. I’ve read that criminals usually choose to commit crimes within the area they live. I can’t picture anyone desperate for money, masterminding this kidnapping plot if he or she lived thousands of miles away.

  Zoe answers on the second ring. In response to my request for a list of the children, attending the day care when Scott was enrolled, she’s momentarily silent and then asks, “Are you trying to find someone in particular, Tammy?”

  “I’m sorry, Zoe I can’t answer that question right now. It’s very important and I’ll explain everything to you one day. One day soon, I hope.”

  “My sister-in-law owns the day care now, I’ll call her this morning and ask her to check the archives and give me a list.”

  The next evening, Zoe calls to tell me she has the list and I can pick it up from her. “Monica said she gave the same list to Warren just the other day. Does this have anything to do with Evelyn’s disappearance?”

  I didn’t want to be rude to Zoe, but I can’t answer her question. I thank her and quickly disconnect the call.

  As I’m burning my trash, I decide not to get myself in hot water with Warren. I plan to call Zoe later and tell her I won’t need the list after all. I remember Warren being adamant about my letting the detectives to do their job.

  CHAPTER 7

  As I’m weeding my garden, I hear “Hot Stuff” at full volume from a lounge chair. It’s my cell phone.

  “Tammy, I haven’t heard from you for days. Nothing from Henry lately, huh?”

  “Warren, I’m starting to get worried, I haven’t seen Henry or Cecilia for two days. I don’t know what to make of this. Henry could be resting on his way back with another message, but I find it hard to believe Cecilia is with him.”

  “I feel we have reason for alarm, Tammy. Have you walked down your road and looked around for them?”