Kate stayed outside until Jack was in the back. He winked at her and she got in to drive.
Sara reached across the seat to squeeze Kate’s hand. “I’m glad you’re here.”
“Me, too,” Kate said. “Now, how do I get to Arthur Niederman’s house? Not that the poor man will talk to us. Sheriff Flynn probably scared him to death.”
“Or made him laugh in derision.”
“Good point.”
Jack slid the back glass open. “Are you two just going to talk all day?”
“How’s your shin?” Kate started the engine.
“Bleeding. I may need stitches.”
“I can sew,” Sara said and the women laughed.
With a groan, Jack said, “Uncaring, unsympathetic. Is this where feminism has led?” When he turned away, he was smiling. With no thanks to him, they were safe. And they’d made vows to stay together. But then, a three-legged stool wasn’t very strong with a leg missing.
SEVENTEEN
A man in a wheelchair met them at the front door of a very nice house set in a beautiful tropical garden. He was in his sixties, plain-faced, with sparse white hair. From the waist up, his body looked strong, but his legs were bone-thin.
“I’ve been expecting you,” he said. “I assume you know that I’m Arthur Niederman. Please come in.” He wheeled himself into a pretty living room and nodded toward a big couch and a couple of easy chairs. On the coffee table was a tray of sodas and water beside a closed metal cake tin. “I would have made coffee but you got here too soon after Flynn left.”
When they sat down close beside each other on the couch, he looked startled. “What happened to you people? You’re as pale as ghosts. Flynn scare you?”
“I almost caused us to crash,” Jack said.
Arthur nodded. “Roy’s son would do that.”
Kate frowned. “Jack was worried about Sara, so he—”
Jack gave her a look to stop.
Arthur was staring at Sara. “You’ve aged well. But then, you always were the prettiest girl in the school.”
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“Was she?” Kate asked. “You knew our Sara?”
“Not really,” Arthur said. “She was always running off home after school. And she was older than me. Not that you can tell that now.” He smiled. “Anyway, you only ever talked to Cal, isn’t that right?”
Kate looked at Sara and saw that she was wearing an expression like a bulldog. Her jaw looked to be made of iron. Kate thought that if talking to this man weren’t important, Sara would leave. But at least her anger was making the color come back to her face.
Arthur was still staring at Sara. “What was the name of that brother of yours? The one you were always having to look after?”
“Randal.” Sara’s jaw was barely moving. “Do you know anything about Verna or Cheryl Morris?”
“I know lots,” Arthur said, “and I’ve been waiting for you to come and ask me questions. Soggy Drawers Flynn ordered me not to say a word to you.”
“Are you going to obey him?” Jack asked.
“Of course not. You can’t obey someone who you’ve seen in perpetually dirty diapers.” He was still looking at Sara. “So now you’re a famous writer. I bet you have lots of contacts.”
When Sara gave a little snort, as though she finally understood something, Jack and Kate looked at her in question.
“Give it to me.” Sara sounded resigned to her fate.