The Mystery of the Silent Girl
Chapter 4: A Bottle O' Whiskey
The next morning Frank and Joe found themselves in the Sheriff's office. But the Sheriff didn't seem to pleased with what they had to say.
"You don't seem to understand," he told them, "You're not in the city now boys."
"We never got lumps like that in the city," Frank said frowning.
"Yeah, well what'd you expect son, sneaking in during the middle of the night," the Sheriff said to Joe.
"I told you, we needed kerosine for the stove," Joe lied, "Now I tried to front door, then went around back and someone knocked me out."
"Look fellows, I'm sorry it happened," the Sheriff replied, not a drop of sincerity in his voice, "Whoever hit you probably thought you were trying to steal something."
Frank and Joe moved closer to where the Sheriff stood, glaring silently at him, "And it'd be his word against yours. In this town he'd win."
"Figures," Joe spat.
"Why don't you forget about pressing charges?" the Sheriff suggested, "I tell you what, you go on over to Sam Clayton's store, tell him to give you a bottle of his best whiskey, bring it home to your pa. I'm sure he'd appreciate it."
The boys were outraged, but kept cool head for the sake of their sleuthing.
"Now that's a switch," Joe said calmly, "Being bribed by a cop."
"Well the law's a little more flexible out here," the Sheriff laughed.
Frank turned to Joe and guided his impulsive sibling outside before he started anything with the Sheriff.
"Calm down Joe. You know you're starting to burn up pretty good for a sick man," he smirked.
Joe huffed, "What kind of town is this anyways?"
"I dunno, all we did was buy us a little time, I hope Callie did better."
...
While the attendant was busy and the Hardys were talking with the Sheriff, Callie had managed to sneak around the back of the garage where Joe had been the night before.
"I hope Joe was right," she whispered as she brought out a handkerchief out of her pocket. Looking around on the ground she found a small rock and placed it in the fabric.
Callie walked up to the tinted windows of the garage and started to gently tap one of the pains with the rock, muffled by the handkerchief. Carefully she managed to break through one and by avoiding any sharp glass, Callie looked inside the garage.
...
Back at the Sheriff's office, Jennings, the hotel owner, watched the Sheriff as he filed some papers and cleaned up his desk.
"You never learn do you?" the Sheriff asked him, "Kids are different these days. When they see a badge they don't even flinch. They don't run easy, they ask questions! You know what that could mean Al?"
"Runnin' scared?" Jennings replied keeping a cool face.
"Look," the Sheriff said, "I've gone along with you because I though you were right. But you're getting us in too deep. I'm calling the shots now and you better stay away from those kids."
The Hardys decided to take a trip back to the hotel to see if they could find out anything from Jenning's kids.
Frank went inside and sat down with the woman, Mary, while her brother, Benjamin, watched from the kitchen. He tried asking her questions, but like usual, she stayed silent.
Meanwhile Joe stood outside. Callie, who'd finished looking around at the garage, joined him.
"Well?" Joe prompted.
"It-it's not there," she told him quietly.
"What?" Joe frowned, "What are you talking about?"
"Joe I looked in the garage, and there weren't any cars."
"It was under the tarp, Callie," Joe argued.
"But there wasn't any tarp," she countered, "they must have moved it." Joe stared at her in shock.
"Then I blew it," he groaned, "We're right back where we started. No proof."
"Nobody's doing any talking either," Callie said shaking her head.
"Wait a minute," Joe started, "Now you stay right here Callie. If Jennings comes in you hit the horn okay?"
Joe took off and Callie began to follow, "Where are you going?"
"The Sheriff offered us a bottle of whiskey 'to take home to our pa.' Now I wanna see what I can do with it."
...
Back inside the hotel Frank was making no progress. In fact he was only further agitating Mary's brother.
"Alright, what do you want?" he finally asked.
"Just take it easy," Frank replied, "Just passing the time of day."
"Well don't pass the time of day with her, you'll get her in trouble," Benjamin told him.
Frank frowned and looked at Mary, "You know your's was the only friendly face in town, what happened?"
"Nothing. Nothing happened," the boy said, his voice shaky, "Look, please my father will be back any minute. If he catches you--"
"Wait a minute," Frank said getting up from his seat at the table next to Mary, "I wish somebody in this town would level with me. Something happened here. What?"
...
Joe, after retrieving the whiskey the Sheriff had promised them, walked up the stairs in the hotel to the room he knew the cook was occupying. After a few knocks on the door the man appeared.
"What?" he groaned, still recuperating from his drunken state.
"Hey, you remember me?" Joe asked.
"Oh sure," the cook said looking at Joe, "From the kitchen. You are a friend."
Joe nodded, "A friend," he held up the bottle of whiskey, "who brought a friend."
The cook smiled, "Are you old enough to drink?"
"No, but that only means, more for you," Joe replied, hiding a smirk. The man nodded and opened the door wider letting Joe in. His goofy grin never fading.
...
"What?" Frank asked again, this time a little more forcefully.
"You've got no right!" Benjamin yelled at Frank, "Who are you anyways, coming in here and sticking your nose into everyone's business! This isn't your town!"
"My brother got beat up in this town," Frank countered, "That makes it my business."
"Well you don't know when your well off. It could get a lot worse. It's a town full of hate! They're like animals," Benjamin hissed.
"What do you mean 'they,'" Frank asked, "You're no different."
"Well how would you feel if your sister was--" but Benjamin stopped, knowing he had said too much, "Get out."
Frank took one last look at Mary and walked calmly out of the hotel.
Benjamin sat down and sighed, "It just slipped," he whispered to Mary, "Or maybe I wanted to tell him. I can't take much more."
Mary looked at her brother, "You've got to," she whispered.
...
Frank walked out of the hotel and met Callie waiting for him.
"Didn't look to good in there," she said.
"Yeah," Frank agreed, "Something happened to that girl, and I got a pretty good idea what."
Just then Joe came running out of the hotel, "Let's go," he said.
"Where?" Frank asked, getting into the yellow convertible.
"Miller Springs."
"Why?"
"To make a phone call," Joe replied as Frank started the car.
"You find something out?" Frank asked.
Joe nodded, "The cook spilled his guts. A man was lynched in this town."
"Your father?" Callie gasped.
Joe looked worried, "I don't know."
Frank drove out of town not knowing that the Sheriff was watching their every move.
"Think they're gone for good?" the gas station attendant asked him.
"No," the Sheriff shook his head, "Not them. Follow 'em Floyd, and see what they're up to."