Page 25 of You Can Leave Your Hat On

CHAPTER FOUR

Aaron pulled his car into a space in the visitor’s parking at Alfred C. Wyman Middle School in Barbourville and shut off the ignition. “Have your questions ready for the Vanderboegh kid?” Maisey asked.

“Yep. Remember, we’re here as part of the investigation into the alleged embezzlement over in WhitleyCounty. You’re a social worker with the state investigating the welfare of the child.”

“Right,” Maisey agreed with a nod.

“Okay. Here we go.” Aaron opened his door, so Maisey threw hers open and climbed out to join him on the sidewalk. They didn’t even have to stop for the school resource officer?one look at Aaron’s badge and weapon and they walked right in. “Oh, he’d be in so much trouble in WhitleyCounty for letting a deputy from another county just walk right past,” Aaron said.

“But?”

“But nothing. He has no idea why I’m here. I could be a disgruntled parent or the husband of a teacher who’s going through a divorce. He has no idea who I am or why I’m here, and he didn’t ask.” Aaron held the office door for Maisey, then followed her in.

A small woman behind the counter looked up and smiled. “Welcome to our school! May I help you?”

“Yes, ma’am. We’re here as part of an embezzlement investigation in WhitleyCounty. I was wondering if I could speak to a student by the name of MarshallVanderboegh.”

“No, sir. You can’t. He’s not here. He doesn’t go to school here anymore,” she said quietly.

“I see. Do you know where he is?” The woman glanced at Maisey, so Aaron quickly added, “This is my wife. She’s a social worker with CPS, and she’s checking on the child’s welfare.”

The woman seemed to bristle, and that puzzled Maisey. “Could I see some identification, please?”

“Sure.” Aaron pulled out his wallet with his photo identification and Maisey did the same. As soon as the woman looked them over, Aaron asked, “Could we get that information now, please?”

“Certainly. Let me look it up.” She piddled around on the computer for a few seconds, then turned back to them. “He’s in the school system in ButlerCounty, Ohio.”

“Oh! Do you by any chance have contact information for him?” Aaron asked.

“No, but I have a phone number for the school we transferred his records to. I’ll be glad to give that to you.”

Aaron nodded politely. “Thank you. That would be very helpful.”

Back in the cruiser, Maisey glanced over at Aaron as he pulled out of the parking lot. “Are we actually going to Ohio?”

Aaron shook his head. “I’ll get Carly to call the sheriff in ButlerCounty, see if he can get in touch with the Vanderboegh woman and maybe we can do a video conference. But if he wants me to, I’ll drive up there. One way or another, I think talking to her and the kid could unravel part of this mystery.”

“What about me?”

“We need to find out more about Hazel’s personal life. Maybe you could talk to her family. They might be able to give you some insight or some idea of who we’re looking for.”

“Okay. I can do that.” Dread filled her chest. She really didn’t want to talk to the dead woman’s family, but at least maybe she’d find something that would make the case move along. Solving it was a priority.

But the biggest priority was trying to have some kind of normal life, and that wouldn’t happen until they knew who had killed HazelPuckett.

Maisey had made a copy of the coroner’s report to take with her, and after telling Aaron where she’d be, she set out toward Miracle, Kentucky, deep in the mountains. She wasn’t actually going to Miracle; she was going somewhere even more remote, a little spot just north of the Hensley Settlement. Once she’d put the address in her mapping system, she tried to sit back and enjoy the ride.

But the farther she drove, the more apprehensive Maisey became. Something seemed very unsettling about the whole trip, and she couldn’t shake that feeling. It was only about an hour away, and she couldn’t believe she’d never been down there before. The pictures she’d seen of the Hensley Settlement site were interesting enough that she thought it might be a good trip for her and Aaron to make at some point. Murielle would love it. Maybe the McEvers and Harrison families would come with them and make a day of it. Everything about the pictures she’d seen had left her with a feeling of peace and tranquility.

But when she turned onto a small county highway to head out of Miracle and toward the state line, that sense of peace and tranquility was nowhere to be found. The farther she drove, the more unnerving it seemed. What was wrong? Why was she feeling so weird about the trip? There was another turn to make, so she took that one.

As soon as the car straightened, Maisey felt her heart thud even harder. The one-lane dirt and gravel road was narrow, with no room for two vehicles to pass unless one pulled off the road. Trees grew right along the edges and their branches intertwined above the roadway, almost like a tunnel. Brush so thick that she couldn’t see through it grew along the tree line, and seeing what was on the other side was impossible. It was as though she was driving through a chute. She was ascending a rise and when she reached the top, there was a break in the trees, and to the right was a mailbox with the number “409” on it. That was the address on the form, so Maisey turned, and her car began an immediate descent. Weeds grew up in the space between the tire tracks of cars, brushing the undercarriage, and it looked like no one had been there in decades. Were her family members gone? The mailbox hadn’t been brand new, but it wasn’t falling apart. It looked as though it might still be in use.

There was a curve in the drive, and when she slipped over yet another small rise and started down again, it was all laid out before her. In something that sort of lent itself to the term “clearing” was a house, and a dilapidated one at that. An old truck sat to one side, wheels missing and on blocks, and in front of the porch was some kind of derelict appliance. A skinny old dog stood there, its mouth partly open and tongue hanging out, panting, and she wondered if it would run to the car and try to attack her, but it just stood there. Several smaller trees were growing here and there, all with bottles neck-first over their branches, and a large cast iron kettle sat out front. Unlike mostof the ones she was accustomed to seeing, this one had nothing planted in it. There were things hanging all around the rickety front porch, like spoons and forks, wine glasses by their stems, aluminum pie pans, and what looked like bones.

Maisey parked and waited to see if the dog would advance, but it didn’t. With careful steps, she moved around the front of the car and gave the dog a once over before she said, “Hey, boy. You doin’ okay?” Tail wagging, the old mutt wandered up to her and waited until she scratched behind his ears. He turned and followed her as she headed toward the house, and with the first step on the lopsided stairs, she glanced up. There were three or four god’s eyes hanging along with the rest of the stuff on the porch, and their crosspieces were made of animal bones.Great. I’ve stepped into the seventh circle of Hell, she told herself. Only the sounds of birds chirping and the wind rustling the leaves fell on her ears. Otherwise, it was silent. She reached up to knock on the door when it flew open and a voice said, “I wondered when you’d get here.”

Maisey peered into the darkness and saw a tiny, grizzled little woman standing there, her calico dress and grayed apron looking shabbier because of the sunlight outside. “I’m sorry?” Maisey said in barely over a whisper.

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