It didn’t take us long to reach the little town. The gas station and the few stores were dark, as were most of the houses. I asked Jackie, “Where to now?”
“We live in a trailer.” He pointed to the left. “Over there.”
There was a trailer park a couple of blocks off the highway. I turned toward it and then saw the county sheriff’s car parked in front of one of the trailers. All the lights were on inside, and I knew without asking that this was where Jackie and Cindy lived.
Cindy confirmed that with a pointing finger and a high-pitched, “There’s our trailer!”
I came to a stop behind the sheriff’s car and killed the engine. Almost before it quit turning over, the kids were out and scrambling up the wooden steps to the door of the trailer.
Someone inside heard them coming. The door was flung open. A women stepped out and uttered a nearly hysterical cry, then swept the two of them up in her arms. As I got out of the car, I could hear her sobbing, “Oh my God... You’re all right, you’re all right!”
A tall man stepped out behind the woman and looked past the reunion at me. He came around them and down the steps. He was holding his hat in his hands, but I didn’t have any trouble recognizing the uniform or the holstered revolver at his hip.
He nodded as he came up to me. “Howdy. I’m Sheriff Cartwright. Where’d you find the kids?”
“On the highway about five miles out,” I answered. “They were coming in this direction already, so I thought I’d give them a ride. A couple of runaways who changed their minds?”
“Nope.” I couldn’t see his eyes in the darkness, but I could tell that they were taking a long hard look at me. “Could I see some I.D.?”
I got out the leather folder with both of my licenses in it and handed it to him. He turned slightly so that the light from the trailer would fall on it and then studied the contents. “Private detective,” he grunted. “What are you doing around here?”
“Just passing through on my way home. I was in Arizona testifying about a case.” I didn’t really have to volunteer that information, but I didn’t see any harm in it.
“Were the children by themselves?”
“Yeah. I didn’t know where they came from, but I wasn’t going to leave them out there.”
“Do you know John Wheeler?”
“The father?”
Cartwright nodded.
“The only Wheelers I know are Jackie and Cindy. Like I said, I’m just passing through.”
Cartwright nodded again and handed the folder back to me. He didn’t say anything, just stood there with a speculative look on his weathered face.
“What’s going on here, Sheriff?” I asked. “Has there been some trouble?”
“Yes, there was. The Wheelers are separated, and Mrs. Wheeler has custody of the children. John Wheeler came over earlier tonight and took them away.”
“That’s kidnapping.”
“It sure is. And before he came over here, he burglarized his father-in-law’s business. I’ve got men out looking for Wheeler right now. I guess the kids slipped away from him somehow. I’m right glad you found them.”
I said, “You and me both.”
Mrs. Wheeler set the children down and seemed to notice me for the first time. She came down the steps and almost ran up to me.
“Thank you,” she said, grabbing my hand. “Thank you for bringing them back.” Emotion choked her voice.
Effusive gratitude was not what I wanted. To get back home was, now that the kids were safe. I took my hand back gently and said, “I was glad to do it.”
Cartwright put a hand on Mrs. Wheeler’s arm and said, “Don’t you think those children should be getting into a warm bed, Elaine?”
She turned to him and said, “Don’t you want to question them, Sheriff? I want you to find John.”
“That can wait.”
“No it can’t.” Elaine Wheeler’s voice had risen slightly, as if in anger. “I want you to find him tonight. I want you to find him and do something to him. Punish him.”
I told myself to get in the car and be on my way. But I made the mistake of taking a closer look at Elaine Wheeler.
She was in her late twenties or early thirties, not a bad-looking woman, with short, curly blond hair and a sturdy but well-formed figure. The thing that bothered me about her was the note of viciousness in her voice as she spoke about her husband.
Cartwright was saying, “There’ll be plenty of time to worry about that in the morning—”
“No! I want him caught tonight! He can’t steal my children and get away with it.”
The two of them seemed to have forgotten about the kids and me. I left Cartwright to wrangle with her and strolled over to the porch of the trailer. Jackie and Cindy were still standing there, watching the goings-on intently.
I went up the steps and said, “Come on. Let’s go inside where it’s not so chilly.”
I herded them into the cheaply furnished living room and then asked, “Are you guys hungry?”
Cindy said, “I’m thirsty.”
Jackie nodded and said, “There’s milk in the refrigerator, but we’re not allowed to get it for ourselves.”
“I’ll get some for you. While I’m doing that, why don’t you get into some nice warm pajamas? Where do you sleep?”
Jackie told me that they shared a bedroom and pointed down the hall. I said, “You go ahead and get ready for bed. I’ll get the milk.”
I went into the tiny kitchen and found a couple of clean glasses in a cabinet. I poured them full of milk from the jug in the refrigerator and then carried them down the hall to the kids’ room.
The two twin beds nearly filled the little room up. An unshaded light bulb cast a harsh glare. Jackie and Cindy had put pajamas on, and they were both sitting on one of the beds.
I sat down on the other bed and handed them the milk. As they started on it thirstily, I asked, “Who was it that hit you, Jackie?”
He wouldn’t meet my eyes. He swallowed some more milk and then said quietly, “Mama. But it was my fault. I was bad. I played too loud.”
“Did your daddy hit you, too?”
“Sometimes. Before he went away.”
My fists wanted to clench, but somehow I kept them lying flat on my knees. I was way out of my depth here. I knew something about how to handle con men and blackmailers and straying spouses, but nothing in my line of work had prepared me for a couple of battered kids.
“What about you, Cindy?”
She was embarrassed by the whole thing and wouldn’t look at me, either. She said in almost a whisper, “They pinched me when I was bad. But I try real hard not to be bad.”
I took a deep breath. “What happened tonight?”
“Daddy came and took us,” Jackie said. “He said we were going to live with him. But he was acting funny. He scared us. When he stopped the car, we ran away from him.”
I was going to ask more questions, but the squeal of tires outside interrupted me. I heard the slam of a car door and then a harsh voice barked, “What the hell are you doing here, Cartwright? Why aren’t you out hunting that no-good jackass who stole my grandchildren and robbed my place?”
Cartwright’s answer was loud enough for me to hear it. “The children are all right, Ralph. They’re inside. And there’ll be plenty of time to find John in the morning.”
The kids were finished with their milk. I stood up and said, “You guys had better try to get some sleep.” I reached over and flipped off the light.
“Can I stay here with Jackie?” Cindy asked.
“I think that would be all right.”
As I turned to go, Jackie said, “Thank you for helping us, Mr. Markham. Will you come back to see us?”
I paused in the doorway and then said, “Sure, Jackie. I’ll come back to see you, maybe tomorrow. Good night.”