Page 52 of One Cry Too Loud
“What are you talking about?” I asked. “What’s going on?”
“You’re trying to get that troublesome little Cajun boy to contact the authorities. Isn’t that right?” Caroline asked.
“I don’t think he’s Cajun, but yes. I’m going to get him to call the police and surround this place,” I said, dropping the bags onto the floor and deliberately missing the table. “That way, you and your husband can pay for what you’ve done.”
“My husband would find that idea very amusing.” She shook her head slightly. “Well that wasn’t necessary. Now, was it?” Caroline asked, looking down at the bags and their contents, now scattered across the floor. “I’m going to have to get the mop out now. I hope you’re happy.” She moved into the kitchen. “And he’s not Cajun, you say? How curious. I figured they all were down that way. It’s all you ever see in the movies.” She opened a cabinet and pulled out a mop. “Either way, he won’t be calling the authorities. His signal, as it were, has been blocked.”
This woman had more knowhow than Holly led us to believe, maybe more knowhow than Holly ever even knew.
“And before you go on about calling the authorities yourselves, I’d advise you against that,” Caroline continued. “If, that is, you’d like to actually get to see Cindy.”
“You said Cindy was in here!” Holly said, her voice shaking so hard she could barely get the words out.
“Don't put lies into my mouth, young lady. I never said anything of the sort,” Caroline replied. “I told you I would introduce you to Cindy, and I will-assuming you play your cards right.”
I looked over at Kat. “I’m going to stay here with Holly. You-”
“On it,” Kat said before I could even finish my sentence, pulling out her gun and darting off into the hallway. She was going to look for Cindy, going to pull that little girl out of what had almost certainly been the nightmare of her life.
“And now a young lady is bouncing around like a hellcat through my home,” Caroline scoffed. “Two minutes back, and you’re already causing me trouble. Honestly, Holiday, you could have called first.”
“Called?” Holly balked, her eyes as wide as I’d ever seen them behind her glasses. “Called?! You kidnapped my daughter, mother!”
“Oh, I suppose you’re going to blame me for that now,” she said as though a bottle of milk had spilled on the counter and they were fighting over who was to blame. “Typical. Just like always, you do whatever you want, wherever you want, and you leave me to deal with the consequences. Do you have any idea how that feels, Holiday? Do you have any idea how embarrassing it’s been to have a daughter who is a convicted felon?” She shook her head. “And not only that, but an unwed mother.”
“Where is the girl, Caroline!” I shouted, thinking of Holly, thinking of my own daughter, and thinking of all the unwed mothers out there whose heart would be broken by this woman’s comment.
“Fresh of you to call me by my first name. You don’t even know me sir,” Caroline said. “And I’d lower that tone if I were you.”
Kat appeared quickly from the hallway, shaking her head. Cindy wasn't here. We had no idea where she was. Just like that, I realized this old woman was right. If we ever wanted to find this little girl, we were going to have to listen to what she had to say.
Holly, however, had a different idea.
“You are an evil witch of a woman who should have never crawled out of whatever terrible shadow spawned you, let alone have children and a family!” Holly turned back to me quickly. “We’ll need to talk to my father if we want to get any headways. He always had more sense than my mother.”
“Good luck with that. Your father hasn't said a word since well before we buried him,” Caroline said. “I doubt you’ll get much conversation now, but you’re free to try. You know where the family plot is.”
“Dad is-is dead?” Holly asked.
“Almost two years now,” Caroline confirmed. Her eyes narrowed on her daughter and her mouth turned downward. “Oh, don’t give me that look. If you wanted to know about your father’s wellbeing, you should have spoken to him.”
“He’s the one who wouldn’t speak to me,” Holly countered with tears in her eyes.
“And why would he after everything you put him through?’ Caroline scoffed. “Honestly, it’s a wonder he held on as long as he did, what with the shame of it all. He’d be rolling in his grave if he knew what else you’d done.”
Before Holly could answer that, I spoke.
“You said you had a husband,” I reminded her. “You said your husband would find the idea of you two paying for your crimes amusing.”
“I got remarried.” She shrugged. “Is a woman supposed to stay single and in mourning forever? And yes, my husband has a rather liberated view of what is a crime and who should pay for it. You may have heard of him.” Behind us, the door began to open. “But in case you haven’t, here he is now.”
Turning, I saw Duncan McRae-the man we’d met on the street before the explosion, the ‘sweet man’ who Holly said she owed for a lot of her interests. The pieces clicked together in my mind.
“Nefarious,” I muttered, realizing who I was looking at.
“Oh good. You’ve figured it out,” Duncan said with a smile. “Now the fun can start.”
CHAPTER 35
