Storm of Suspicion - 9. Chapter 9

Karla awoke and quietly got dressed, noticing Thom still asleep, curled up on the sofa in the corner of the room. “Poor guy musta been exhausted”, she surmised as she picked up the blanket Thom had knocked on the floor and gently placed it over his shoulders. She grabbed her phone from the bedside and seeing it was nearly dead, plugged it back into the charger. She then grabbed her watch and threw her coat across her arm, opening the door gingerly as to not awaken him. “I’ll just grab some coffee here and then go check on Steven”, she decided as she made her way to the dining room.

“Ah, Miss Eastman, Good Morning. And how are we today?”, Carter called out as he caught sight of her entering.

“Just fine, all things considering,'' she replied.

“Yes, I noticed Steven hasn’t been with you all since the fire….”, Carter began. “That dear boy just won’t fare very well in prison, I’m afraid. Killing Johanna and Danny I would imagine he’ll be up the river for quite a while.”

“What ? Wait…”, Karla started. “How do you know about Danny? The police hadn’t released his name to the public yet”. Karla stood staring at Carter with puzzling glare.

“Oh, um...well…”, Carter stammered.”Oh you know how these small towns are, word gets around quickly. No secrets here, sometimes I think this is Peyton place!” he giggled gayly, trying to offset her suspicions. “I’m sure someone mentioned it to me, you know people just tell me everything”.

“Right…. so tell me about the blond guy we saw over there in the corner yesterday? Steven seems to think he was the guy that rented his room the night of Johannas murder”, Karla continued.

“Well I really don’t know much about him except he said he was a reporter. Disappeared without even checking out... let's see… sometime after you guys saw him actually”, Carter declared.

“Well that seems particularly odd since there’s certainly still news going on with all of this. Why would a reporter disappear mid-story?”, Karla speculated aloud hoping to evoke some more information from Carter. “What was his name anyway?” she continued.

“Frye”, Carter replied as he scrolled down the Inn’s registry to confirm his memory. “Here it is, Hmpf…that’s odd, I guess I didn’t get a first name. He sorta caught me off-guard by paying in cash.”

“Oh, he paid in cash? Are you certain?”, Karla replied.

“Yes, I thought it odd too since nobody uses cash anymore, but hey, money is money, right?” he responded in a nonchalant manner.

“Hmmm, I wonder…”, Karla mumbled to herself. “If he’s the same guy that Steven... and then Terrence Edwards is the same… but if….”.

“What’s that?”, Carter asked.

“Oh, never mind, nothing really,'' she responded. “Hey, can I get some coffee to go? I want to get down to the police station to check on Steven”.

“Of course, absolutely. And let me put something together that you can take down to that dear boy. Where he’s at isn’t prison food but I’m sure the food there is nothing much either”, Carter responded as he pranced off towards the kitchen.

“You really needn’t…”, Karla called out but Carter had already disappeared through the door. As she stood waiting for Carter to return, she tried to make sense of what Carter had told her. One thing was certain and that was that Steven was being framed. “But why?” she wondered.

Carter scurried to the back of the kitchen and quickly began dialing his phone. “Peters, that busy body is asking an awful lot of questions….”, he stated, quickly looking around to make sure nobody was nearby that might overhear him.

“You mean that woman, Karla something”, Peters asked.

“Yes, yes, that's the one. Miss Eastman. You don’t suppose she’s figured out what’s going on here?”, Carter asked with worry.

“I’m not sure but she may have seen me getting rid of our mysterious guest last night,'' Peters continued. “She’s been a nuisance ever since she got here!”, he added with a groan. “We need to figure out how to keep her quiet, at least until after the election.''

“Well she’s here now and is on her way down to the police station to see Steven, what should I do?”, Carter asked,

“She alone?”, Peters replied.

“Yes, for now anyway. I haven’t seen Thom or the others yet so I assume they’re still all sleeping”, he declared.

“Good”, Carter declared. “I think it’s high time I give her my own personal welcome tour of Provincetown”.

A few minutes later, Carter emerged from the kitchen carrying a medium picnic basket and a styrofoam cup. “I took the liberty of making you a cup to start with for your walk. There’s a thermos and cups in the basket plus some fresh muffins right out of the oven”, Carter purred.

“You really didn’t need to go through the trouble, but Thank You”, Karla responded, taking the basket and peeking inside. “Looks like a couple sandwiches too”.

“Oh, no trouble at all. I figured I’d send him a little something for later too,” Carter replied. “Just be sure to give Steven my regards”, Carter continued as he ushered her towards the door. Karla stood on the porch for a moment realizing she still had her coat in her arms. She put down the basket and the cup of coffee on a table next to the door and then quickly put on her coat, pulling the collar up to shield the blistering wind. “I really didn’t pack right for this trip at all!” she declared taking the basket and proceeding down the stairs and starting along the street towards the police station. Not more than a block down the street, a police cruiser pulled up from behind Karla.

“Can I give you a ride?” a voice bellowed from the slightly open side window.

Typically she would have declined but she was already nearly drenched and frozen. “Well, I’m just going down to the station”, Karla replied as she placed her hand on the front door handle, trying to peer through the rain streaked window to see the driver.

“Sorry, you’ll have to ride in back. Department policy no civilians in front, you understand”, the driver instructed.

Karla hesitated for a moment but thought it would be rude not to get in since she had essentially already accepted the invite for a ride and after all it was a police cruiser. If you can’t trust the police, then who can you trust, she justified as she got in the back of the patrol car. She closed the door and placed the basket on the seat next to her and then for the first time was able to look up and see the driver. “Oh, Officer Peters”, she stammered, her face turning ghost white. Her hand slowly making its way to the door and feeling for the handle should she need to make an escape, gasping with the realization that like the back of most police cruisers the inside handles had been removed.

“Coincidence running into you”, Peters declared. “I’ve been meaning to have a chat with you….”

“Yes, there seems to be a lot of coincidences around here”, Karla snidely remarked as the car took a sudden turn right, completely the opposite direction from the police station.