Unbury Carol(63)

Farrah acknowledged the lawman and stepped by him. The name Dwight Evers burst in her mind and fizzled. She wondered if Opal had somehow kept tabs on how much she’d drunk. But there was no law against drowning yourself.

“Missus Darrow, you mind having a word with me?”

Farrah turned clumsily. Seeing her now, the sun full upon her features, the sheriff could tell the girl had been drinking indeed. But more than that, she’d been crying. A lot.

“I’d no idea you were wanting to talk to me, Sheriff Opal. I do apologize.”

Harrowsers passed on the planks of the boardwalks. As if Carol Evers had never died. As if everybody was kept cold in the cellar of a home with warm rooms.

Opal removed his hat.

“Let’s find ourselves some privacy, Farrah.”

She walked with the lawman to the end of the boardwalk and turned down a quiet, wooded side road. Opal was careful to present himself gently.

“I understand you had quite a relationship with Missus Evers, Farrah, and I’m awful sorry things have come to pass as they have.”

Farrah stared long into the sheriff’s eyes. A small flame sparked inside her. A flicker, it seemed, of hope.

Sheriff Opal wanted to talk about Carol.

“I’m not sure what I want to ask you, young lady. There are a number of questions on my mind.”

“Ask me anything. Please.”

He watched the girl a moment before continuing.

“Did you see Missus Evers the night she died?”

“I was with her when she collapsed.”

“That right?”

“That it is. We’d been walking through the garden. She didn’t seem well.”

“Didn’t seem well how?”

“She said she didn’t feel well.”

Opal nodded. “Did she explain that any further?”

“I think she was about to, Sheriff. She wanted to tell me something just before she fell. She hinted at a preexisting condition.”

“What’d she say? How’d she put it?”

Farrah sighed. Her eyes were wet with more tears to come. She shivered at the thought of Dwight asking her the same questions.

“She told me she had a sickness. Said it didn’t come often and that she could see it when it did.”

Opal frowned. “Do you know what she was referring to?”

“No, sir. I’m sorry. But I don’t.”

Opal nodded. He studied Farrah’s face and felt sorry for her. He’d seen her many times in town, and this version of her was the wrong one.

“Farrah, I only ask you these questions because it’s my job around town to understand what’s happened to anyone living in Harrows. It’s about safety. Protection.”

“Of course. But surely you feel something is wrong for you to be asking questions.”

Opal paused. There was hope in her voice. “Do you think something’s wrong, Farrah?”

“I don’t know. Maybe.”

“You see, that answer frightens me.”

Now the tears did come. Quietly, falling gently down her face. Then Opal said, “I’ve never been very good at hiding where I’m going. Used to be people told me I’d never make it in the law business ’cause I wasn’t clever enough. I’m interested to know about you finding Missus Evers in the storm room.”

Farrah’s eyes widened.

“How did you know about that?”

Opal did not smile when he answered. “I’m not sure myself. But I heard it, I did.”

Farrah imagined Clyde, drunk, running his mouth at a tavern. She would have words with him later. Or maybe not. Maybe this time Clyde had given her a gift.

Then she told Opal the same story she’d told Clyde the morning after she found Carol. That Dwight was very serious about discovering what Missus Evers told her before dying. How she fainted, woke up alone in the house, and found her lady in the cellar. Opal listened closely.

“How long were you asleep for?”

“I don’t know.”

“Can you try to figure it out for me? It might mean a lot.”

Farrah brought a hand to her forehead. The phrase a lot frightened her. She worked through it with the sheriff. The sun was not yet fully down when she fainted. “When I came to it was dark, but the sun was showing by the time I got home.”

Opal nodded. Girl’s got a bad feeling, too, he thought. First the minister of death, now the dead lady’s girl…

“Any idea where she is now, Farrah?”

“Carol?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t know. The cellar still. I don’t know.”

Opal nodded. He didn’t want to tell he’d been down there.

“Let’s talk a moment more. A couple more questions, if I may.”

“Of course.”

She gripped the whiskey bottle tight. A man passed and tipped his cap to Opal. Opal waited for him to be gone.

“How did Mister Evers look to you when he learned the reason you screamed?”

Farrah held his eyes and answered, “He wanted to know what she almost told me, Sheriff.”

“Sure. His wife collapsed, after all. But what I mean to ask is, did you notice anything beyond grief?”

Farrah looked confused. And yet eager. “I’m not sure I understand.”