Студопедия

Главная страница Случайная страница

Разделы сайта

АвтомобилиАстрономияБиологияГеографияДом и садДругие языкиДругоеИнформатикаИсторияКультураЛитератураЛогикаМатематикаМедицинаМеталлургияМеханикаОбразованиеОхрана трудаПедагогикаПолитикаПравоПсихологияРелигияРиторикаСоциологияСпортСтроительствоТехнологияТуризмФизикаФилософияФинансыХимияЧерчениеЭкологияЭкономикаЭлектроника






Clarinda






 

The Catlin ranch was a thirty-minute drive from Grace’s house, thanks to the heavy traffic. Nancy made the trip in nearly complete silence, her mind busy with plans. Nothing she could think of, however, seemed satisfactory, and after she discarded each one, she felt more depressed.

Once they reached the ranch, she saw little to lift her spirits, for it was far more rundown and neglected-looking than the small house in town had been. Grace sighed as she got out of the car and waved a greeting to a portly, balding man who appeared to be in his sixties.

“It doesn’t look like they’d have much to come back to now, does it? ” she observed.

“In the last thirty years, I suppose they’ve built a new life somewhere else, anyway, ” Nancy said.

Introductions were made and Mr. Westmorelin led the way up on the rotting timber of the front porch of the ranch house. “I’m afraid the place isn’t in very good shape, Miss Drew, ” he acknowledged. “There was a time when we took care of the ranch house and really hoped that Leroy and Lindy would come back, but after so long...”

“We understand, Mr. Westmorelin, ” Nancy assured him.

“Actually, I’m really surprised that anyone was still interested enough in the Catlins to hire you to find them, ” he said, curiosity bright in his eyes.

Nancy hesitated for a moment, then decided that there really wasn’t any point in secrecy. “I’m not exactly looking for the Catlins, ” she admitted. “I’m seeking Clarinda Winthrop. Her father is old and ill and he wants to see her and perhaps mend the breach between them before he dies.”

“But., Mr. Westmorelin frowned. “What does that have to do with Leroy and Lindy and finding them? ”

“According to Joshua Webber, Lindy Catlin is really the missing Clarinda Winthrop, ” Grace supplied.

“You mean Lindy wasn’t her real name? ” Mr. Westmorelin looked skeptical. “That’s pretty strange, Miss Drew.”

“I believe she changed her name when she first arrived in Cheyenne, ” Nancy told him. “She was probably afraid that her father would try to find her and force her to return home.” “Her father. But I thought that she and Leroy were going to her people when they left here after the robbery, ” Mr. Westmorelin protested.

“What made you think that? ” Nancy asked, instantly alert for a clue.

“Well, I promised never to say anything about them slipping away like they did, but now... Heck, Miss Drew, I helped them load up that old station wagon. Leroy himself told me that they were going to go to her family for help.”

“They couldn’t have done that, ” Nancy said. “According to Mr. Winthrop, he disinherited his daughter because of her involvement with Mr. Catlin. I’m sure he’d be the last person they would turn to when her husband was in trouble.”

“Is this Mr. Winthrop living in California? ” Mr. Westmorelin asked.

Nancy shook her head. “He lives on an estate near River Heights. Why do you ask that? ”

Mr. Westmorelin looked guilty. “That’s something else I never told anybody at the time... or since, for that matter. Leroy had a couple of maps on the car seat—California maps.”

“And you think that was where they were heading? ” Ned asked.

Mr. Westmorelin nodded.

“Do you know anything else? ” Nancy queried. “Anything at all? ”

The man thought for several minutes, then shook his head. “I wish I could help you, Miss Drew, but if I’d had any idea where they were, I would have started a search myself once Leroy’s name was cleared of the suspicion over the bank holdup. He loved this old place, really loved it.” He sighed. “Of course, he wouldn’t be too crazy about it if he could see the way it looks now; but at that time...”

Mr. Westmorelin unlocked the door and pushed it open, ignoring the creaking protests of the hinges. There was a distant sound of scampering feet that made Nancy reluctant to enter, but she steeled herself and stepped into the dusty, dark interior.

“I’m afraid there isn’t any electricity anymore, but there should be some lanterns around and we can open all the shutters.” Mr. Westmorelin moved efficiently to admit both light and fresh air, then lit the lanterns.

Nancy thanked him profusely.

The inside of the ranch house had once been comfortable and attractive, but time and the owners of the scampering feet had reduced it to near ruin. The padded furniture had been shredded for nesting, papers were scattered a- bout, and dust and dirt lay like a pall over the scene. Nancy stared at it with a sinking feeling, her hopes of finding any clues dissolving around her.

“Where do you want us to start? ” Grace asked. “And what exactly are we looking for? ”

Nancy controlled her disappointment firmly, straightening her shoulders. “If you and Mr. Westmorelin could search this room, Ned can take the kitchen and I’ll start in the bedrooms, ” she instructed. “And I really don t know what we are looking for. Anything with a name on it or an address, anything that might give us a direction to start a new search.”

“I’m not sure there is anything left to find, ” Grace observed, as she touched an old magazine with the toe of her sandal and watched it disintegrate.

“We have to try, ” Nancy told them, picking up a lantern and heading toward the rear of the room. “Are the bedrooms this way? ” she asked.

“Right down that hall, ” Mr. Westmorelin confirmed. “They only used the front two, though. One for them and one for the baby.”

“Baby? ” Nancy stopped. “You mean that they had a child? ”

“Sure did. A little girl, ” Mr. Westmorelin replied. “Cute little tyke. Lena, Lana, something like that.”

Nancy smiled. " So Mr. Winthrop has a grandchild somewhere, ” she said. “I think he’d like to know that. I’ll call Hannah tonight and ask her to let him know. Maybe that will make him feel better since I haven’t had any other good news for him.”

Maybe she will have heard from your father, too, ” Grace suggested. “I know how anxious vou are to know where he is.”

“That’s for sure, ” Nancy agreed, her pleasant mood fading a little at the reminder of her father and his mysterious lack of communication.

Nancy moved down the dark hall and opened the first door she came to. The paint in the room beyond it was peeling badly, but she could still make out the dancing elephants, giraffes, and kangaroos that someone had painted on the walls at crib height. The room had obviously been used as a nursery and was nearly empty of anything, so she spent little time searching it.

The next room was more of a challenge. Tattered clothing still hung in the closet and when she opened a drawer, she smothered a scream as a mouse leaped out of a swirl of fabric, abandoning a nest of tiny babies.

“Sorry about that, little ones, ” she whispered, moving away from the drawer quickly so that the mother mouse could return.

Nancy gingerly inspected the other dresser drawers, finding that most of them contained a few bits of clothing, but little else. Time-rotted bedding still covered the double bed, and shoes in long-forgotten styles lay on the floor of the closet, but there was nothing else of real interest to her.

Nancy peered under the bed, but all she found was a well-nibbled old book and the remains of a sock. Wiping her grimy hands on her slacks, she stood up and stepped back from the bed, which smelled of mildew and age. Her foot caught in the uneven remains of what had probably been a very lovely rag rug and she scrambled wildly, trying to keep her balance.

“Oh! ” Nancy muttered as she fell heavily into the corner of the room.

The floor and wall seemed to shift beneath her weight and when she recovered, Nancy glanced downward. The baseboard had pulled away and behind it she could see something that gleamed dully in the flickering light from the lantern.

Well, well, what have we here? Nancy asked herself. She reached gingerly into the dim recess and eased a small metal box out into the room.

The box was thickly topped with dirt, but the seal seemed tight and a tiny padlock secured the lid to the bottom. Nancy tugged at it without success.

Getting up, Nancy carried it over to the dressing table, searching through the clutter that still lay there till she found an old, rusty hairpin. It took her only a few minutes to spring the small padlock.

The lid refused to budge till Nancy had broken two fingernails, then it fell back with a squeal of protest. Inside was a leather-bound book marked clearly Diary.

“Find anything? ” Ned asked from the doorway, startling Nancy so that she very nearly knocked the lantern over.

“I don’t know for sure, ” Nancy answered, “but this just may offer a clue.”

 






© 2023 :: MyLektsii.ru :: Мои Лекции
Все материалы представленные на сайте исключительно с целью ознакомления читателями и не преследуют коммерческих целей или нарушение авторских прав.
Копирование текстов разрешено только с указанием индексируемой ссылки на источник.