Mystery at Saddle Creek. Shelley Peterson

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СКАЧАТЬ loudly. “Bea, get help opening all these windows. Roxy, can you put on the fans?” He hoisted open the window to let in the cool evening air. Bird smiled. Even better.

      It took a moment for Bird’s ears to sort out individual voices from the cacophony. She heard smatterings of assorted—but definite—opinions.Some were more forceful than others. Names were bandied about and people accused. The more Bird heard, the more she believed that people would be better off if they thought before they spoke. Or didn’t speak aloud at all, like animals—like she herself had done for so many years.

      Finally, Bird heard Roxanne introduce Officers Paris and O’Hare. She couldn’t quite hear Roxanne over the voices close to her window, but as soon as Officer Paris began to speak, the crowd quieted.

      “Thanks for coming out tonight, folks,” he began. “Your numbers show just how much interest this community has in safety.” There were murmurs of assent.

      “We’ve been very busy since yesterday.” Rumbling asides and whispers punctuated Officer Paris’s words.

      “Thanks to those of you who came forward with information, we’ve interviewed three men today and are looking for a fourth. Before you ask for names, I’ll tell you right now we’re not giving them out. These men are innocent until proven guilty.”

      “One of them isn’t,” a woman’s voice interjected. Bird recognized her as the owner of the coffee shop in Erin.

      “We already know the identities of the suspects,” called out a man. “Her ex, the cop and the farmhand.”

      “Who’s the fourth?” asked another. Bird guessed that this speaker was Jim Wells, Ellen’s husband.

      Officer Paris tried to keep order.“Please,folks,leave the police work to the police. If everyone co-operates, we’ll have this crime solved in no time, and the perpetrator will be behind bars.”

      “Where he should be!” a woman with a shrill voice shouted.

      “Amen,” added Jim Wells. “So, who’s the fourth? You didn’t answer my question.”

      The young policeman cleared his throat. “The fourth suspect is an unknown man who is currently being sought by the police. We don’t know much about him at this time.”

      “Where does he live?” the shrill woman asked.

      “It’s possible that he’s homeless.”

      This admission caused an outbreak of discussion. Bird wondered if the meeting could continue with so much commotion.

      “Quiet!” commanded Roxanne. “Really, people! We’ll never get anywhere like this!”

      Once the room was still, Officer Paris spoke again. “If we all follow basic good sense, like locking our doors and being aware of what’s happening around us, there is no reason for concern. Keep us informed of anything out of the ordinary, and no matter how small it seems, tell us anything that worries you.”

      “You talk about worry? I can’t sleep with worry,” murmured someone, a younger woman by the tone. “And now you tell us there’s a homeless man out there, too?” Bird strained her ears to pick up her words.

      Another joined in. “This has always been a safe community. Now a woman’s been killed! And you don’t know who did it!”

      “We understand your concern.” Officer Paris tried to soothe their fears. “We’re taking this very seriously. No one wants this solved more than we do, and we’re doing everything we can.”

      “Is that true?” Ellen Wells’s voice rang out above the others, and the room went quiet. “Sandra Hall was going about her day, minding her own business when this happened. If you’d seen that poor woman lying on the ground covered in her own blood, as I did, moments from death, exposed to the world and as helpless as a newborn baby, you’d stop talking about protecting the suspects’ identities and all this stuff about innocent until proven guilty. You’d want that monster tarred and feathered!”

      Bird shuddered. Ellen sounded like she was ready do the job herself.

      Her husband spoke. “When you said this community cares about safety, you got that right. And justice, too. If this community doesn’t get justice from the police, it’ll get justice for itself!”

      As the murmurs grew again to a roar, Bird felt goosebumps rise all over her body.

      “Folks,please!” Officer Paris had to shout to be heard. “We’re working night and day. We’re following leads and searching for clues. I urge you all to remain calm.”

      An elderly woman spoke up. Based on her Hungarian accent, Bird figured it was old Mrs. Goose. “Thank you, officers. We appreciate your visit very much.” She paused slightly, as if trying to decide whether to say more. “You have to understand, we all know each other here. We’re good people, and we know the good and the bad about each other. We get used to things being the same — and safe — and we get worried when things change.” She swallowed and cleared her throat. “I want to ask us all to listen to the police and not let things get out of control.”

      The whole store filled with noise. People began to talk to each other, speaking louder and louder in order to be heard. Bird’s ears picked out comments.

      “It’s obvious! Pierre Hall attacked his ex-wife.”

      “He’s such a hothead.”

      “Who saw this homeless guy?”

      “I think Philip Butler did it.”

      “But Pierre used to beat Sandra. That’s why she left, you know.”

      “Don’t forget Cliff Jones!”

      “What about the homeless bum?”

      “First I’ve heard, but it scares me!”

      “Please! May I have your attention!”

      “What’s all this about Phil’s secret past?”

      “Pierre’s always been strange.”

      “Where do they think the homeless guy lives?”

      “If he’s not locked up, somebody else will be next!”

      “People, please! Calm down and listen!”

      Bird slumped down on the ground outside the window. She knew these men and women. They were good people, as Mrs. Goose had said, but Paul had been right. The meeting was not going well, and she’d heard more than enough. She wanted to go home. But how?

      As if in answer to Bird’s wish, Mr. and Mrs. Pierson chose just that moment to make their own early exit. They passed so close to Bird that she was amazed they didn’t notice her hiding in the bushes. She watched, holding her breath, as they climbed into their truck. The old blue Chevy kicked into action, then stopped. Pete got out and returned to the store, mumbling about how forgetful he was getting.

      Bird didn’t hesitate. This was her chance to get back to the farm before Hannah and Paul. She quietly ran to the back of the truck and carefully climbed СКАЧАТЬ