"Six thousand five hundred," the cabdriver said.
Spiro reached into his pocket and drew out his notebook. "Charlie mentioned a bed and breakfast. Mrs. Tolvey’s on Pine Street."
"Good choice," the cabdriver said. "Mrs. Tolvey puts on a great breakfast spread.”
“Then that will be fine"—Eve looked at the driver’s ID on the panel -"Mr.
Brendle." She put her arm around Jane, who was leaning against her. "Anyplace with a bed."
"Bob. Good beds too. Mrs. Tolvey’s been running the place for over twenty years, and she changes all the mattresses every five years."
"Incredible," Spiro said.
"Well, they don’t get used that often."
"Twenty years," Joe repeated, looking at Spiro. "My, what a coincidence.”
“Charlie’s a good man. It’s a long shot, but still we may find out something from Mrs. Tolvey."
"Will she have enough rooms for us?" Joe asked the cabdriver. "Six rooms. All clean as a whistle." He nodded. "It’s right up ahead. Two blocks." The bed and breakfast was a large gray house with a wooden swing on the wide front porch. A light gleamed beside the storm door.
"You go on and knock." Bob got out of the car. "I’ll get your bags.”
“Wait," Spiro said. "Do you have a bar in this town?"
"You’ve got to be kidding. Four." Bob pulled the overnight cases out of the trunk. "You want to go get a drink first?"
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"Is there one where all the regulars go?”
“Cal Simm’s place on Third Street."
"Take me there." He turned to Eve. "I want to see if I can find out anything before tomorrow.
Check me in and tell Mrs. Tolvey I’ll be along in a few hours."
Eve nodded. To Joe, Spiro said, "You’ll talk to Mrs. Tolvey?”
“You’d better believe it."
The taxi was pulling away when Mrs. Tolvey opened the front door. Dressed in a pale green chenille robe, she was in her late fifties with short, curly brown hair and a wide smile.
"I saw Bob drop you off. I’m Nancy Tolvey. Need a room?”
“Three." Joe picked up the bags and entered the foyer. "A twin for Ms. Duncan and the little girl, a single next door for me. We have a friend who will be back a little later. We’ll check him in too."
"Fine. But we don’t have any twins. A queen okay?" Eve nodded.
"Suppose you show Eve and Jane upstairs and I’ll stay down here to sign us in," Joe said.
Eve picked up her and Jane’s bags, and Nancy Tolvey led the way. The room Nancy Tolvey showed Eve was clean and bright with pale green ivy twining on cream-colored wallpaper. "No private bathroom. It’s down the hall."
"You heard her, Jane," Eve said. "You shower first. I’ll bring your pajamas to you as soon as I unpack them."
"Okay." Jane yawned. "I don’t know why I’m so sleepy.”
“The altitude," Nancy Tolvey said. "You must not be from around here.”
“We came from Phoenix."
She nodded. "I visited there once. Too hot. I couldn’t ever get used to that kind of climate after living here all my life."
All her life…
Joe had told Spiro he’d talk to Nancy Tolvey, but Eve might as well do it herself. "We’re trying to locate a family who may have lived here a long time ago. The Baldridges?"
"Baldridges?" Nancy Tolvey was silent a moment and then shook her head. "I don’t think so. I don’t recall anyone by that name living here." She headed for the stairs. "I’ll bring you up some The Killing Game – Eve Duncan 02
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more bath towels."
It had been worth a try, Eve thought. Maybe they’d find out something tomorrow.
Nancy Tolvey was frowning as she came down the stairs.
"Something wrong?" Joe asked.
She sat down at the old-fashioned writing desk in the foyer. "It’s nothing." She opened the guest book. "Sign here, please. Name, address, driver’s license." She was still frowning as she watched him register. "You’ll share the bath with your friends. We don’t have— She closed her eyes. "The candles…"
"I hoped you had electricity," Joe said dryly.
Her lids flicked open. "No, that’s not what I meant. Miss Duncan asked me about the Baldridge family, and I told her I couldn’t remember anyone around here by that name."
Joe stiffened. "But you do?"
"I didn’t want to talk about it, but, yes, I remember." She smiled bitterly. "There’s no way I could forget. And not talking about it isn’t going to make it go away, is it? I’ve done that for years."
"The Baldridges lived here in town?" She shook her head. "It was up north of Dillard.”
“Near Jamison?"
"No, the tent was up farther in the mountains.”
“Tent?"
"Old man Baldridge was an evangelist. A real fire-and-brimstone preacher. He had a big tent on this plateau in the middle of the mountains, where he gave his sermons." She made a face.
"When I was in my teens, I slept around a little. Well, maybe a lot. My daddy thought I needed my soul saved. When he heard about Reverend Baldridge’s tent show, he drove me up there one night. And believe me, it was quite a show. The reverend scared the daylights out of me."
"Why?"
"He looked like death warmed over. White face, dirty gray hair, and his eyes…”
“How old was he?"
"Sixty, maybe. He looked real old to me. I was only fifteen." Then the evangelist couldn’t have been Dom, Joe thought.
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"He shouted at me," Nancy Tolvey continued. "He stood up there, waving that red candle, telling me what a whore I was."
"Red candle?"
"The whole tent was full of candles. No electricity. Just big iron candelabras filled with candles.
We all got a candle when we came in. Children got white ones. The rest of us got red or pink."
She shook her head. "I never forgave my daddy for taking me there and letting Baldridge drag me up to the altar and tell everyone what a sinner I was."
"I can see why it’s impossible to forget."
"I remember crying and jerking away from him. I ran out of the tent and down the hill to our car. My father came after me and tried to make me go back, but I wouldn’t go. He finally took me home. I got married and moved out six weeks later."
"Who else was in the tent that night?"
"There were so many people there. Why are you looking for him? Is he any relation?"
"No. Actually, we’re looking for his family."
She shook her head. "I don’t know about that. You’ll have to ask someone else.”
“Can you point me to anyone who might remember anything about the reverend?"
"Daddy heard about him through the Bloom Street Baptist Church. A lot of the members were driving up to the revival on weekends. Someone there might know something." She smiled crookedly. "That was the church where I was baptized, but I never went back. I was too afraid someone had been there when that old devil screamed out what a sinner I was."
"You never heard about the reverend again?"
"You think I’d want to hear or think about him again? I wasn’t a bad kid. What’s sex anyway? He shouldn’t have done that to me." She drew a deep breath. "I’m getting all upset over nothing. It was so long ago. I’ve lived a happy life since then. Funny how the things that happen to you as a kid leave the deepest scars, isn’t it?"
"Maybe not so funny."
She stood up. "I was going to bring up more towels. You’re in the room at the top of the stairs, next to Miss Duncan and the kid."
Joe watched her walk down the hall. He had struck pay dirt.
"An evangelist," Eve repeated. "Dom’s father?"
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Joe shrugged. "Or grandfather. She said he was nearly sixty.”