Missing Marlene (9 page)

“Well, hi, doll! Isn’t this an unexpected surprise.” Audrey’s pale blond hair was in a ponytail. Over her black slacks and fruit-print rayon top she wore an indigo apron with not a speck on it. In her ears were large diamond studs. Audrey’s working clothes.

“I hope this isn’t a bad time,” Jane said.

“No, of course not. It’s great to see you. Come in, come in.” Audrey urged Jane in and shut the door behind her. “Let me take your coat. You’ll have some coffee?”

“Sure, that would be great, thanks.”

Audrey hung Jane’s coat in the foyer closet and led the way through the dining room into the vast white Smallbone kitchen. “How come you’re not at the office at this time of day?” she asked, measuring coffee.

Jane sat down at the kitchen table. “I wanted to talk to you about something.”

Audrey turned to her and smiled a big red closemouthed smile, eyebrows raised. “Oh?”

“It’s about Marlene.”

Audrey shook her head thoughtfully. “I still can’t believe she’d just leave like that, boyfriend or no boyfriend. You know, Jane,” she went on, sliding into a chair facing Jane, “I hope you’ll forgive my saying this, but as a nanny, Marlene was just
awful!
How in heaven’s name you ever chose her is beyond me.” Quickly she added, “I mean, I’m sure that if she hadn’t left, you’d have fired her.”

“Actually, I
was
planning to. I wanted to give her a decent trial period. She is my best friend’s daughter.”

“Oh, right, I forgot that. Well, water under the bridge, as they say. Moot point. And I understand you’ve already hired a new person. Florence, is it?”

“Yes. How did you know
that?”

“My Cara saw her with Nick the other day after school. Cara says she’s marvelous—though she didn’t use that word, of course.” Audrey laughed, eyes to the ceiling.

“I’m very pleased with her,” Jane said.

There was a brief awkward silence, during which Audrey waited, her smile frozen.

“Audrey,” Jane said, “last Monday, the day Marlene left, Roger saw her come out of your house.”

Audrey blinked.
“Roger
saw her?”

“Mm, he was at my front door, looking for me, and happened to see Marlene leave here. What was she doing here?”

“Oh, that’s easy. I had asked her to do me a favor. Elliott was expecting a very important package of materials from NJRI—you know, the institute he’s up for—”

“Yes, I know.”

“Well, the package had to be signed for, but I had an appointment down in the village for my nails. So I asked Marlene if she would mind waiting for the package while I was out. I mean, I knew she couldn’t screw
that
up.” Suddenly Audrey looked concerned. “Oh—I hope you don’t mind that I asked her. And that I didn’t tell you. It really was no big deal.”

“No, that’s okay. And did the package come while she was here?”

Audrey seemed surprised by the question. “Yes, as a matter of fact it did. When I got back from my nails, I thanked Marlene—gave her a twenty, actually—and she left.”

“Roger said she was upset. She was crying, and her face was red.”

“Oh. That. Well. I suppose I may have overreacted, but really, the girl is too much.”

“What did she do?”

“Well, as I was seeing her out, I happened to glance over at my Lladro collection on the mantel in the living room, and I noticed something funny about one of my pieces. I went over to it and saw that the figure’s arm was missing—broken off! I asked Marlene if she knew anything about it. At first she said no, that my cleaning lady must have done it and why was I blaming her. But Rosa would never be so clumsy, and the figure had been fine that morning.”

“You
check
them?”

“Well ... yes,” Audrey said defensively. “They’re worth a lot, Jane.” Her tone implied that Jane wouldn’t know about such things. “Anyway, I could tell from Marlene’s face that she was lying, and I told her so. She finally admitted she’d picked up the figure and accidentally broken off the arm.”

“I’ll be happy to pay you for it,” Jane said.

“That’s very sweet of you, Jane, but I wouldn’t dream of letting you do that.
You
didn’t do it—she did. And she had the arm in her pocket, the little sneak. Well, I just lost it. I screamed at her that she had no right to touch my things and that to try to cover it up made it twice as bad. Elliott’s parents gave us that piece for our tenth anniversary.”

“Which piece was it exactly?”

“The shepherd girl. It was a large piece, worth a lot.”

“What did you do with it?”

“Threw it away, of course. If it’s not perfect, I don’t want it.”

How fortunate to be able to live life that way,
Jane thought. “Roger said one side of Marlene’s face was red. Did you ...”

“Slap her? Yes, Jane, I’m afraid I did. She called me something quite horrible and I couldn’t help myself. . . . I wasn’t going to tell you about any of this.”

“Where was Elliott at this time?” Jane asked.

Audrey looked puzzled. “He was at his office, or at the hospital—I don’t know, what does that matter?”

“He wouldn’t have had any reason to stop here while you were out?”

“No, Jane,” Audrey said coolly, understanding now, “he wouldn’t. Jane, I don’t think I like the way this conversation is going. If you resent my having asked Marlene to do me that little favor, why not just say so instead of making insinuations about Elliott?”

“I’m not making insinuations about Elliott. It’s Marlene’s character that’s in question. I’ve learned that she was rather... loose. If she made a pass at Elliott, and he of course would have rebuffed her, she might have become upset.”

“She was upset about the Lladro and my slapping her. And as I just told you, Elliott wasn’t here. That’s why I asked Marlene to wait here in the first place. I would have asked Rosa, but Monday’s not her day.”

“When is her day?”

“Thursday,” Audrey said icily, and turned toward the counter. “Coffee’s ready. You’ll have?”

“No, thanks, Audrey. I’m afraid I can’t after all. I’d better get back to the office.”

That seemed just fine with Audrey. She followed Jane out to the foyer.

“Audrey,” Jane said, shrugging into her coat, “Marlene didn’t happen to say anything to you that might have suggested where she was going, did she?”

“No, nothing. Do you really care? I mean, good riddance, right? Gorgeous girl, but terrible nanny. Sometimes I’d see her with Nick, and she looked as if she didn’t even know he was there.”

Jane felt another sharp pang of guilt. She loved Nick so much she couldn’t express it, yet she had been too preoccupied—with her work, with her relationship with Roger—to see that she had entrusted her son to a woman who cared nothing about him. And Nick, even sensing that himself, had simply borne it, saying nothing. How could she have been so selfish, so unfeeling? She had betrayed not only Nick but also the memory of poor Kenneth. Would she ever have behaved this way if Kenneth were still alive? No, decidedly not. But if Kenneth were still alive, everything would be different....

Audrey was still talking. “Just let her go!” she said.

Jane took a tissue from her bag and wiped the tears from her eyes. Audrey seemed to take no notice.

“It’s not that I want Marlene back,” Jane said. “Her mother and I are worried about her. She was seeing a dangerous young man. We want to make sure she’s okay. She had a right to leave. We just need to know where she went.”

“Mm. Speaking of running off, doll, what happened to you Saturday night? You couldn’t get out of here fast enough. Headache?”

“Yes, that was it,” Jane said, buttoning her coat. “A real killer.”

Audrey laughed airily. “I thought maybe our friends had bored you.”

Jane looked scandalized at the thought. “Your friends? Not possible.” She went out the door and down the steps. “Bye, doll!”

“Mm,” came Audrey’s thoughtful murmur behind her.

Jane crossed the road and walked up the path to her house. It was a little after two. Florence would be picking up Nick from school at 2:40. Jane decided not to go back to the office. She was tired, and besides, she had plenty of work she could do at home. Daniel had asked her to read a manuscript by a writer he wanted to represent, and Jane felt she should get to it quickly. She wanted to encourage Daniel to take on his own clients, just as Kenneth had encouraged her so many years ago.

She made herself some coffee and settled in her study off the living room, pulling the manuscript out of her briefcase and dropping it on her desk.

Winky padded silently into the room and leaped into Jane’s lap. Purring loudly, practically rumbling, she rubbed her head against Jane’s blouse.

“I know, Winky, I know,” Jane said. “You’ve been kind of neglected lately with all of our running around looking for Marlene.” She took a sip of coffee. Winky rubbed harder. “I’ll bet even when Marlene was here you didn’t get much attention from her, did you, baby? Bet she hated cats.”
If only Winky could speak,
Jane thought. What had the cat seen and heard that might tell them where Marlene had gone? “Bet you didn’t like that bad old Marlene one teensy-weensy little bit, did you?”

“Mom, who are you talking to?”

She turned in her chair. Nick stood in the doorway, looking amused.

Jane laughed. “To Winky, who else? I didn’t hear you come in. How was your day?”

He shrugged. Florence appeared behind him. Her dark brown face beamed; her pretty dark eyes were cheerfully bright. She wore a navy nylon running suit that looked good on her slim frame.

“Afternoon, missus! We didn’t expect you home now.”

“I know. Last-minute decision. Just make believe I’m not here.”

“Will do,” Florence said, putting her hands on Nick’s shoulders. He smiled and spun around, clearly quite willing to remain under Florence’s supervision despite Jane’s presence in the house. He liked Florence—that was plain. Jane, too, liked her more and more.

“First we will have a nice little snack,” Florence said in her faintly singsong Caribbean tones. “Then we will do homework.”

“Are you doing it, too?” Nick asked.

“Funny, funny little wiseguy. No, I will be making something supernice for dinner. My special meat and rice. That okay, missus?”

“Perfect,” Jane said.

They trotted off, and Jane started Daniel’s manuscript. Even from the first few pages she could tell it was quiet, rather literary. Maybe a hard sell. Needed the perfect editor. She would keep reading so she could give Daniel her opinion in the morning.

Then she remembered she hadn’t told him she wasn’t coming back today. She dialed the office. He answered on the first ring.

“No problem,” he said. “It’s been kind of quiet. Oh—some good news. Barbara called from Silhouette to make an offer on Pam Gainor. Wants to do a three-book contract. I told her you’d call her back.”

“Great. Anything else? Mail?”

“Some rejects.”

“Nope—don’t wanna hear about those. I’ve been rejected enough today.”

“Gotcha. Well, enjoy the rest of the day. Call if you need me. See you tomorrow.

“Oh, Jane—” he said before she could hang up. “I forgot to tell you I have a dentist appointment tomorrow morning. I won’t be in till around noon. I hope that’s not a problem.” He sounded oddly apologetic.

“Hey, don’t worry about it,” she said. “I’ll see you and that gorgeous white smile whenever you get there.”

“Thanks,” he murmured, and hung up.

Jane hung up smiling. Thank heaven for Daniel, a marvelous assistant and a dear friend. She needed all the dear friends she could find right now. She honestly didn’t know what she would do without him.

“Excuse me, missus.”

Florence stood in the doorway.

“Sorry to disturb, but I have a question. When I make my special meat with rice, do you like spicy, not so spicy, what? My boyfriend, he always liked
super
spicy, but American people, they say they like spicy but they usually don’t really. My family in Randolph didn’t like spicy one bit at all. So I wonder about you and the little one.”

“It’s thoughtful of you to ask, Florence. I think just regular spicy. You have a boyfriend?” she ventured.

“When I was in Randolph, yes, but we broke up about six months ago. It was very ugly, and I was embarrassed.” She looked truly upset at the memory of whatever had happened.

“Really? Embarrassed in front of whom?”

“In front of my Randolph family. I didn’t know the missus was home, and my boyfriend and I, we had a big fight with screaming. The missus, she heard the whole thing. I told her I was very sorry for the unprofessional behavior.”

“Oh, well,” Jane said sympathetically, “these things happen and aren’t necessarily our fault. I wouldn’t give it another thought.”

Florence nodded happily. “You are very kind, missus. I am going to like it here. Regular spicy.”

“Florence!” Nick called from the kitchen. “It’s boiling!”

“I’m coming just now!” Florence called back brightly, and jogged back to the kitchen. Winky, perhaps interpreting Florence’s haste as a sign of food, jumped from Jane’s lap and followed.

Jane returned her attention to the manuscript but couldn’t concentrate. Words blurred, replaced by images of Roger fondling Marlene in the pantry, of Marlene slapping Roger, of Roger sitting forlornly in the big shabby chair in his bungalow’s dark living room.

Had that really been the last Roger saw of Marlene? Had his fury at being rejected and humiliated escalated to the point that he had gone back to see her? He could have gone to Jane’s house right after his meeting with her. Perhaps he had confronted Marlene again, this time inside the house. He might have hit her . . . might have
killed
her?

No, that didn’t make sense. First of all, Roger, for all his faults, was no killer. Second, Marlene had left on her own, packing up all her belongings. . . .

Jane shook herself, forcing the images away. But then a new one came, of Marlene emerging from Audrey’s house, crying, her face red....

The phone rang.

“Jane, it’s Ivy.” Her voice was like ice, dark with reprimand. “What happened with the police? You never called me. Did you go?”

Damn. Jane had completely forgotten. “Yes, Saturday morning,” she said meekly.

“And you didn’t call me?” Ivy’s voice rose in anger. “Really, Jane, that was unbelievably thoughtless. Here I’ve been thinking that for some reason you hadn’t gone yet—though I couldn’t imagine why not—and that you’d call me the minute you spoke to them.”

“I’m sorry, Ivy. I really am. But I did go, the morning after we spoke.”

“And?” Ivy demanded. “What did they say?”

“They took down the important information and said they would ask some questions and let me know what they found out.”

“Ask some questions? Of whom?”

Jane drew a shaky breath. She twisted the phone cord tightly around her index finger. “Ivy, I didn’t tell you this before, but—”

“Tell me what?” Ivy shouted.

“I didn’t tell you Marlene had a boyfriend while she was here. I went to see him. A young man named Gil Dapero.”

“And what did he say? Does he know where she is?”

“No. In fact, they broke up a couple of days before Marlene left. He says he has no idea where she is.”

“No idea at all? She never said anything to him about where she was going? Nothing?”

“No, nothing. At least that’s what he said.” Then a thought occurred to Jane: Why was she protecting Ivy? “Ivy, this boyfriend—he’s ... tough. Not a good choice of boyfriend, according to the police.”

There was a long silence on the line.

“What are you saying, Jane?” Ivy growled. “That the police think this boy is lying? That he does know where Marlene is? What?”

“I don’t know, Ivy. The police don’t know either. They’re going to ask him some questions.”

“If this thug did anything to my Marlene . . .” Tears came into Ivy’s voice. “I can’t believe this,” she sniffed. “What were you doing while this affair was going on?”

“Sleeping.”

“Are you being funny?” Ivy snapped.

“No! Marlene went out at night and stayed out late. This is what she was doing. Seems she had quite a wild secret life.”

“Marlene is not a wild girl, Jane. Can you blame her for wanting to have some fun? Cooped up with you and Nick all day—what kind of life is that?”

“A hellish one, I’m sure,” Jane said sarcastically, “and I don’t begrudge her her nightlife. I’m just saying she’s a big girl, and I let her have her privacy on her own time.”

“I’m coming out there,” Ivy said suddenly.

“Ivy, there’s no point. I’m sure Marlene will call one of us. Just give her some time.”

“I want to talk to the police there myself. What’s the name of the person you spoke to?”

Jane supposed she couldn’t stop Ivy from doing that. In fact, it might be a good idea to let Ivy hear all this for herself. “Detective Greenberg.” She opened the phone book and read Ivy the number for the Shady Hills Police Department.

Ivy read the number back to her. “Jane, if you find out anything, I expect you to call me immediately.”

“I will. Ivy. I promise. Did the New York police find out anything about Zena?”

“No, nothing yet,” Ivy said, and hung up.

The clock on Jane’s desk read 4:30. She’d gotten virtually nothing done. A delicious aroma of meat and spices wafted in from the kitchen, and Jane realized she was hungry and looked forward to Florence’s dinner.

She hoped Florence didn’t find a new boyfriend here in Shady Hills. That was selfish, Jane knew, but her experience with Marlene had shown her that a nanny with too wild a nightlife had little energy left for nannying.

It was unfair, perhaps, to apply that to Florence, who was far more mature than Marlene. Florence had clearly been mortified at having her violent breakup overheard by her employer.

Marlene’s friend Helen said Marlene and Gil had had a violent breakup, too. Screaming at each other in the Roadside Tavern’s parking lot.

What had they fought about? Gil had been unwilling to say. Had Marlene left because of her breakup with Gil? Or was it the other way around? Had Marlene decided to leave, thus causing the breakup? Perhaps something had been said in their argument, something that pointed to where Marlene had gone. Something someone might have overheard.

It was worth looking into.

“Ready!” Nick called from behind the closed door to his bedroom.

“Twelve!” Jane cried out, smiling, enjoying their nightly ritual. Nick, wrapped in a towel, would run from the bathroom while Jane counted, Nick’s goal being to get into his pajamas before she reached twenty. “A new record,” she said, entering the room. Nick sat on the bed, his arms wrapped around his knees, his face red and clean and alight with a huge smile. He wore his white pajamas with baseballs and bats all over them.

“Did you brush?” she asked him.

“Yup. Smell my breath.” He rose up and exhaled the scent of peppermint into her face.

“Kissing sweet!” she exclaimed, as always, and grabbed him and showered his head and neck with kisses. He giggled uncontrollably, breaking free to burrow under his green flannel comforter.

“Hey, Mom,” he said, “look,” and whipped back the covers. “Surprise!”

Winky lay sound asleep in the bed, her head on Nick’s pillow, her legs limp before her.

Jane laughed. “How will you be able to sleep?”

“Easy,” he said, and carefully cuddled up next to her.

Jane reached for his lamp.

“Hey, wait a minute!” he said indignantly. “I’m not ready yet. First”—he leaned over to the framed picture of Kenneth he kept on his night table—“say good night to Daddy.”

No matter how many times they performed this ritual—and they’d been doing so for as long as Jane could remember—it invariably brought tears to her eyes. Perhaps one day it wouldn’t; but then, how long would Nick keep this up? Maybe forever. She hoped so. And she promised herself, not for the first time, to find more ways to help Nick remember his father.

Nick had gently taken the photo from the night table and was holding it in the air in front of him. “Good night, Daddy. I love you.” He kissed the glass and handed the picture to Jane.

“Good night,” she said softly, looking hard into Kenneth’s handsome smiling face. “I love you.”

“And second. . .” Nick said, reaching under his bed and brandishing a small hardcover book, “is
Clue of the Screeching Owl!”
He gave Jane a serious look. “You know, Mom, you should represent an author like Franklin W. Dixon.”

“Yes, darling, I know,” she said, and added cheerfully, “I’m always on the lookout!”

He sank down into the pillow and opened the book to the page he had marked with a Magic card. At that moment Winky awoke, sat up, and mewed softly. “Oh, Wink!” he greeted her. “You’re just in time for the Hardy Boys.” He held the book a little to the side so that Winky could see, too.

Jane bent and kissed Nick’s forehead. “Good night,” she said softly. “I love you.” And because she knew he would remind her if she didn’t, she added, “Good night, Wink.”

Quietly she stepped from the room, taking one last look at Nick and Winky staring up at the book in the lamp’s glow.