Dior or Die (Joanna Hayworth Vintage Clothing Mysteries Book 2) (32 page)

And Helena let Ben find her in Poppy's office. The bit about a call from Gil could have easily been an excuse. She didn't want Poppy cleared. No, she wanted her in jail not just for selling diamonds, but for poisoning Vivienne.

Joanna shivered. Why? Why would Helena do it? Poppy’s voice came back to her. "Voyeurs," Poppy thought Vivienne had told her. What if it wasn’t "voyeurs" at all, but "voyageurs"—or, in English, travelers? Leo was a traveler and knew Helena. Could she be one, too? She pictured Helena’s patrician features and New England-touched accent. But what her features were bleached white? Albino? Helena and Leo might be twins.

She returned to the tiki bar and took a deep breath. The killer wasn't Clary or Gil or Tranh at all. It was Helena. Helena murdered Vivienne and Poppy. Joanna had to talk to Crisp. Immediately.

Her hand nudged a package next to the phone. Natalie must have set it down and forgotten it. Through the plastic bag showed the lurid, 1950s-style cover of a battered paperback.
My Gun is Quick
by Mickey Spillane. The book on the Mother's nightstand.

The breath went out of her like she'd been hit. The Mother. She must call the convent to warn them. First the convent, then Crisp. The dial took forever to spin then click each number.
Come on, come on, pick up.

Mary Alberta's voice sounded distracted. "Hello, Sisters of the—"

"Mary Alberta? Joanna. Listen, you—"

"Thank the Lord you called. It's the Mother. She's missing."

"Hold tight. I'll be right there." Joanna fumbled for her keys and locked up the store. She ran to dodge the rain, and the inside of the car began to steam up as soon as she started the engine. She mopped at the windshield with a rag. Old Blue’s windshield wipers batted weakly at the downpour.
 

Apple had warned her to tell the nuns. Of course, Helena would make sure the Mother wouldn't repeat to anyone the story about Oaks Park.
 

Joanna swerved and pushed the horn when a car tried to move into her lane. How could the Mother have disappeared? She couldn't even walk. Helena was solid and the Mother was frail. Still, it was hard to imagine Helena sneaking into the convent and hauling the Mother out over her shoulder.

Ten minutes later Joanna pulled up by the convent's kitchen entrance. Mary Alberta stood at the door, her usually placid expression twisted with worry.
 

"Come in, come in." She gestured toward the kitchen.
 

Joanna dashed in, holding her coat over her head. "What happened?" Water streamed from her coat to the linoleum.
 

"About an hour ago Vivienne's daughter-in-law, Helena, came by. We weren't expecting her. Mary Frances and I were finishing up lunch. Helena said she was in the neighborhood and wanted to stop in for Vivienne's sake. She wanted to see Mother."

Helena must have left the house right after the detective's visit, Joanna thought.
 

Mary Alberta paced. "Mother didn't seem surprised she was here at all. I led Helena upstairs, then came down to clean up the lunch dishes." The dishes in the drainer shone in the kitchen's yellow light.

"Yes?"
 

"She didn't stay long—Helena, that is. Maybe ten or fifteen minutes. After she left, I made the Mother a plate of leftovers from last night's supper and brought it up to her. She wasn't there."

"Are you sure she's really gone?" It seemed impossible she could have left on her own. "Maybe she just went down the hall. Maybe she's still here."

"She's not, I'm telling you. I searched the whole house."
 

"You're certain Helena left alone, right? How long was it from when she left and you discovered Mother was gone?"

"I was in the kitchen, but I heard the front door close, and right after that I heard a car on the street in front. It had to have been her. I admit I wasn't paying a lot of attention. Mostly I was thanking the good Lord that even in this rain the exhaust fan in the kitchen doesn't leak anymore."
 

The good Lord and Paul, Joanna thought.
 

"We've looked everywhere—downstairs, the garden, even the basement," Mary Alberta said.

If Helena took the Mother away, they might never find her. She was undoubtedly desperate enough. Joanna should have warned the nuns. Instead of wasting time at Tallulah's Closet, she should have been at the convent. "Mary Alberta, there's something I have to tell you."

Mary Alberta gestured, indicating Joanna should get on with it.

"I think Helena killed Vivienne and my friend, Poppy."

"What?" Mary Alberta and Mary Frances said in concert.

"It takes too long to explain, but Mother shouldn't have been left alone with her." Joanna's voice choked in frustration. "Listen, is there any chance the Mother could have left on her own?"

The Marys shot glances at each other across the hall. "Well—" Mary Frances started.

"She didn't like to advertise it, but she could get around a little better than she made out," Mary Alberta finished.

So there was at least a small chance that Helena didn't take her. "Could she get downstairs?"

"I don't know about that," Mary Alberta said.

"I have noticed a little pie missing some mornings," another Mary said.

"But that would have been Mary Catherine, don't you think?"

"And found a plate and fork in the Mother's room," Mary Carmen added.

"If she went anywhere, she had to have taken her cane." She trotted up the stairs to the second floor where Mother's bedroom was. "It's not here. She took it. Mother took her cane and went somewhere," she shouted from the landing.

If the Mother left the house on her own, in this rain, she had to have a good reason. Something sparked by Helena's visit. "Is there a cab company you guys use?"

"Mother likes Radio Cab. A lot of veterans drive for them. She likes to talk to the older drivers about the war," Mary Alberta said, downstairs again. "Their number's in there."

In the kitchen, Mary Alberta handed her a small notepad with Radio Cab's number and logo printed across the bottom.
 

"May I use your phone?" Joanna asked.

"Right here." Mary Alberta pointed to a mustard yellow phone affixed to the kitchen wall.

Joanna dialed the cab company's number. "Hi, yes. I'm calling about a customer you picked up at the Sisters of the Mary Salome the Myrrh Bearer convent."
 

The Marys looked at each other. Another Mary joined them in the kitchen, and Joanna heard the front door close. Business at the rectory must be over.

"Yes." Relief washed over Joanna. Mother had taken a cab. "I know you don't normally give out this kind of information, but we need to know where the customer went. You see, she's the Mother Superior." She grasped the phone more tightly. "Me? I'm, uh, the Mother Superior's secretary, and we urgently need to get in touch with her. She doesn't carry a cell phone." The dispatcher paused. "It’s very important. God's business. Thank you. I'll be right here. Yes, that's the number."

Joanna hung up the phone. "We were right. They picked up Mother a little while ago. They're going to call the driver of the cab that took her." She wanted to get in touch with Detective Crisp, but didn't want to tie up the line until the cab company called back.

"What happened?" a short, plump nun Joanna vaguely remember as having the unlikely name of Mary Marsha, asked as she shook rain off her habit.

Mary Alberta hesitated. A few more Marys joined the group in the kitchen. "I guess you'll find out sooner or later. Mother has disappeared." A clamor of voices rose.
 

As if on cue, the phone rang. Joanna grabbed it and took a breath to relax her voice. "Sisters of Mary Salome the Myrrh Bearer here. May I help you?"

"We never answer the phone like that," a voice murmured at the back of the kitchen.

Joanna nodded. "Yes, thank you. Oh, and God bless." She hung up and reached for her coat.

"Where is she?" Mary Alberta asked.

Joanna ignored her question. "I'll come back with her, don't worry." The sisters were too mixed up in this as it was. She slapped Crisp's card on the counter. "Call this number right away and tell the detective everything I told you about Helena. Tell him to meet me at the Rose Festival’s Fun Center." She slid on her coat and opened the kitchen door to a thunder of rain. A half-inch sheet of water flooded the driveway, the lawn unable to absorb it.
 

Through the water streaked windshield, Joanna saw a passel of Marys in the kitchen doorway, and another few with their faces plastered to the side window.
 

The cab driver had said the Mother asked him to go out Powell Boulevard to the Thrillmeister yard. They’d stopped a few minutes while she talked to someone in the office, then continued to the Fun Center.
 

Joanna could be there in ten minutes—soon enough?
 

***

Joanna found parking only a few blocks from Waterfront Park, where the Fun Center was set up. On a normal spring day, the park would teem with people eating elephant ears, playing the arcade games, and lining up for rides. The torrential rains changed all that. As she hurried toward the park, she only saw a few security guards and a policeman, fully tented in rain gear.

Portable chain link fences encircled much of the fun center, and amusement park rides ran down the two-block length of the Fun Center.

As Joanna reached the fenced-off area, a security guard stopped her. "We're shutting down. The rain." He gestured toward the ground where his feet had left indentations in the muddy grass. "It's flooding." He was holding large pieces of foam core with "Closed Until Further Notice" printed on them.

"I don't want to go on any rides," Joanna said. "Have you seen a nun? In the past fifteen minutes or so?"

The guard looked at her as if she were unhinged. "No nuns, ma'am."

"I need to look around. It's important. It's—"

"Uh huh. Right." He grunted as he wired the sign to the fence. "Fine. But you gotta be out of there in ten minutes. We'll have the whole area fenced off by then. Good luck with your, uh, nun."
 

Joanna's feet sank an inch when she stepped off the cement path. Her foot made a sucking sound when she lifted it again. Her suede pumps would be completely destroyed, and the 1940s wool suit so perfect for a day at Tallulah's Closet already smelled like a wet dog. She squinted against the rain and scanned the park, looking for the Mother. Cursing her lack of an umbrella, she felt her way down the park, trying to stick to higher ground.
 

Undoubtedly, the Mother Superior was also looking for someone—Helena's brother, Leo. She must have figured out he was in danger and wanted to warn him. If he hadn't gone home, he'd most likely be working on one of the rides. But which one?

Most of the rides were covered in tarps. A woman draped in a rain poncho checked the padlock securing one booth and headed for the exit. Rain dripped down Joanna's neck and saturated her blouse. Walking in the mud was slow going, but Joanna moved as quickly as she could.

She spotted motion at the red and black frame of the Rock-O-Plane straight ahead. She walked toward it, pausing behind the inert arms of the Scrambler to get a better view. She pulled a rain-drenched lock of hair from her eyes.

Yes, there was Mother and Leo standing partly in the Rock-O-Plane's shelter. The Mother leaned on her cane. She was intent on explaining something to him. Leo's bleached complexion and hair nearly glowed against the muddy fairway. Tools spread at his feet. Bits of their voices drifted to Joanna, but the splattering of the rain on the tarp wrapping the base of the Scrambler obscured most of the words. Well, Joanna was going to take Mother home right now. Crisp could deal with the rest.
 

Just as Joanna stepped from the Scrambler's shelter, Helena, eyes trained on the Mother and Leo, strode to them. She seemed impervious to the rain that plastered her hair to her skull. Fury had contorted her features. Her voice cut clearly through rain.
 

"You." Helena spat out the word. "You selfish son of a bitch. You can't ruin me."

Helena was focused completely on her brother. Mother might not have been there. Joanna lurched forward to intercede, but she slid and hit the ground, her elbows and knees first. With the noise of the rain, no one seemed to hear her.

Closer, Leo's voice was more clear. "Well, if it isn't my big sister. Mom always said you'd do good if your temper didn't get in the way. Ellen."

Ellen? Joanna pulled herself up at the rear of the Rock-O-Plane and stopped cold. A gun. Helena had a gun. She'd drawn a small gray handgun from her purse and held it on Leo.

Heart hammering, Joanna looked up and down the fairway, but saw no one. Where was the security guard? Should she rush Helena? Try to wrest the gun from her hand? No. She could barely stand in this mud, let alone tackle someone. Helena stepped closer to Leo.

"Elly, what are you doing? I said I wouldn't tell. No one knows you’re here."

"It's too late for that, isn't it? I gave you the money to move on, and you didn't. Now you have to face the consequences."

"I couldn't sell that bracelet. With all the diamond thefts lately, it was too risky."

Helena's fingers tightened on the trigger.
 

"No," Joanna yelled and rushed out from behind the ride. Before she reached Helena, a thwack split the air—the sound of Mother's cane striking Helena. Instantly, Mother's body hit the muddy ground. She must have fallen from the effort.

"You." Helena kicked the Mother in the side, and her whole body went limp. Leo stood, mouth agape, seemingly frozen with fear.

"Stop it," Joanna cried. Her own head was jerked back by the hair. Helena.
 

"And you, too." Helena said, rain pouring over her. Now jabbing the gun in Joanna's ribs, Helena led her to one of the cages on the Rock-O-Plane and pushed her inside. "I’m sorry, but it has to be this way."