Miz Scarlet and the Vanishing Visitor (A Scarlet Wilson Mystery) (7 page)

“Red,” Kenny replied, busy digging through the
pile.

I found an open bottle of Shiraz and poured a couple
glasses. On my way back to the library, I found myself thinking
about Jenny’s plight. Her mother had died two months ago. Her
stepfather made his move after the memorial service. Where had
Jenny been in the meantime? How had she survived? I posed the
question when I joined the pair a moment later.

“I camped out. I had three hundred dollars in my bank
account, so I rented a space for my tent at the campground where my
mom and I used to stay up north. But then my money got low. Things
were okay for a while. Mr. and Mrs. Mann let me do some odd jobs,
to help pay for my tent site. But then one night this guy tried to
get fresh. Mr. Mann chased him off, but he said he was worried the
guy would cause trouble. Mrs. Mann said I should go stay with
family, and when I said I didn’t have any, she suggested friends.
That’s when I decided to go see Paula in Pennsylvania.”

“That makes sense.”

“Here you go,” said Captain Peacock, handing her an
adapter. “That seems to be working.”

“Oh, goody. Now I can call Jessica.”

“Who’s Jessica?”

“My friend from high school. She’s working at a camp
up in Vermont for the summer. I haven’t talked to her in ages!”
There was that teenage enthusiasm for the telephone. Alas, it was
short-lived. “I have no service!”

“Oh, let me hook you up to our micro cell.” Seven
minutes later, the gizmo designed to boost our cell phone signals
was operational, but the phone still wouldn’t let Jenny make a
call.

“Shall I?” Kenny’s masculine hand reached out and
took it. He quickly dialed a number, waited, and then I saw him
frown as he listened. “Stepdaddy has apparently cut off your
service, Jen.”

“But I’ve had this phone number for three years!”

“Not to worry. We’ll get you hooked up again in no
time. We’ll reactivate it tomorrow,” said I, with great confidence.
Little did I know it was easier said than done.

“You can do that?”

“We can put it on my service,” I told Kenny. “Was the
phone working earlier today?”

“Yeah. I called Zak.” What do you know...the teenager
kept in touch with her pals. That was surely a good sign. And yet,
none of her friends took her in after the incident with her
stepfather? Why not? I had to ask. “Zak’s in Colorado for the
summer, at his uncle’s ranch.”

“None of your other friends could put you up after
your stepfather got nasty?”

“Mirabelle’s mother kicked me out after two weeks.
She said I bummed her out just moping around all the time. And when
I stayed with Lally Wheaton, her father got a little weird because
he has a new wife. She’s like thirty and kind of bitchy. She didn’t
even want Lally around. By then, it was warmer out and I really
missed my mom, so I decided to go camping.”

“That’s too bad.”

“While my mom was sick, I didn’t really have all that
much time to spend with my friends. I was always taking care of
her.”

Of course she was. Poor kid. Small wonder there
wasn’t anyone around to look out for the teenager. Everyone
probably just assumed she was taken care of by Stevie, the
jerk.

“Well, if anyone wants to know why we’re switching
your number to my account, it’s because you’re working for me and
you need your phone here in Connecticut. We’ll all go early.”

“We have to,” Kenny agreed. “I have to be on the road
back to New Jersey first thing. Now, time to hit the hay and get
some sleep.”

Captain Peacock was up at the crack of dawn. I made
him pancakes and sausage for breakfast. Jenny came down just as he
took his first bite, so I made another batch for her. She was eager
to get her phone service back. Right after I got Laurel set for her
morning with her physical therapist, we all piled into Kenny’s car
and headed to the Verizon store in the plaza.

I carefully explained that I wanted to switch Jenny’s
phone to my service plan, but the twelve-year-old in charge wasn’t
buying it.

“Sorry. No can do,” Trong replied.

“No can do because....”

“The number’s in use elsewhere.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning someone just bought a new phone with this
number and got a brand-new two-year contract.”

“Who in God’s name would do a thing like that?”
Exasperated, I felt like slugging that stepfather of hers. Talk
about mean-spirited.

“What am I going to do?” She was teary-eyed at the
thought of losing touch with all her friends.

“We’ll just have to get you a new
phone
and
a new
number.”

“But I need this number...and this phone! How else
will my friends know it’s me calling? And how can get in touch with
them if I don’t have my address book?”

Chapter Seven --

“Oh, baby!” I groaned, expecting the teen to be
tech-savvy. “You have been spending too much time out of the loop!
We’ll transfer your contacts to your new phone, so you’ll have
every number on it.”

Trong agreed, explaining that he had a device that
allowed him to copy everything that was on her current phone,
including photos.

“And if you have your friends’ email addresses, we’ll
send out an announcement, so they know how to reach you in the
future.”

“My mom bought me this phone.” It was such a poignant
statement. I looked to Kenny for some wisdom. After all, he
understood this kind of loss.

“Tell you what,” he said carefully, glancing at the
Verizon clerk. “Why don’t we get you a new phone and then you can
keep this one in your memory box?”

“What do you mean? What memory box?”

“You don’t have a memory box, a special place to keep
all the things you care about?”

“Do you have one for your wife?”

“Of course I do. And we’ll get you one, for your
important memories.”

“I’d like that,” Jenny decided.

“Great. Now the question is which phone and
accessories do we get you? What can you show us, Trong?” The
Verizon clerk steered them towards the Smartphone display, while I
hung back a bit. Wasn’t it interesting that Jenny wasn’t afraid of
Kenny? It was like they had that bond between them, both still
mourning their losses. Mind you, I know that Captain Peacock is a
very trustworthy guy. He was like that even in high school. Still,
for a girl who had been burned so badly by relationships, someone
somewhere had been her chivalrous protector. Was it her
grandfather?

Kenny dropped us off, promising to check on that
backpack in Bay Head and to return to us at the weekend. I felt
that little flutter of excitement at the news. He and I had been
getting together twice a month for the last six months. To have him
back in Connecticut in just a few days was an added thrill.

Jenny seemed to settle in quickly, eager to learn the
ropes of working at the Four Acorns Inn. I showed her how to
prepare a guest room -- changing the sheets, sweeping and
vacuuming, and finishing with the bathroom, which was scrubbed and
cleaned daily. I showed her the supply closet, where we stored
everything right down to the tiny bottles of hair products and body
lotions. By three, we were ready for a break.

“In the mood for a hike?” I asked her. I saw a slight
hesitation. Too many memories of the past? I added, “The dogs need
a good, long walk and when it’s this hot out, we always head for
White Oak Hill. It’s almost a mountain.”

That got her attention and interest. We harnessed the
pooches and set off. I decided to back off a bit on the questions,
and just let her speak her mind as she chose. We headed up the blue
trail, over to the pink, where we stopped at the summit to admire
the view of Hartford in the distance. It was a clear day, so I
pointed out the Heublein Tower in Simsbury.

“It’s really pretty here. It reminds me of my
grandparents’ house in Maine. They lived near a mountain. I was
really sad when we had to move.”

“I can understand that. Change can be tough.”

“After Grandpa died, Grandma was very sad.” Jenny
seemed to be remembering. “Mom got a new job in Burlington, at a
hospital there. And then she met a doctor who moved to New
Hampshire three years later.”

That explained the male bonding. He must have been a
positive influence on Jenny. “Your mom didn’t marry him?”

There I went, spoiling it all, even after I decided
to let the girl direct the conversation. Her crestfallen face
indicated trouble for the relationship. I wasn’t expecting what
came next.

“They were supposed to get married, but he was in the
Army reserves. The military sent him to Germany, to work at that
big hospital there.”

“Did he come back after your mom was diagnosed with
cancer?” A slight shake of the head bespoke the heartache.

“She didn’t want him to know. She said he’d feel like
he had to come home and take care of her, and he really should be
taking care of the wounded warriors.”

“No one ever told him?”

“No.”

“How sad.” I made a mental note to tell Kenny.
Someone really should get in touch with the man. He probably never
understood why Vivian Mulroney broke it off with him, and it would
be healing to know the truth. At least I hoped it would.

“That’s when Steve came along.” Oh, is there anything
sadder than a soldier getting a “Dear John” letter while stationed
overseas, I thought to myself. And then I decided there was.
Marrying Steve after saying farewell to a good man who loved her.
What might have happened if Jenny’s mother had been honest with her
doctor boyfriend? Would Jenny have had a decent stepfather to look
after her? The decisions we make in life so often have
ramifications and rewards. All the more reason to choose wisely, I
reminded myself.

We headed back down on the yellow trail, winding up
at the back of the property. As I led her through the woods and
into the yard, I pointed out the blueberry bushes, raspberry canes,
and vegetable garden.

“Is it organic?” she wanted to know. “Pesticides can
kill you. That’s probably how my mother got cancer.”

“Cancer is over two hundred different diseases, Jen.
Many of them have roots in your genes, and those genes get passed
down through the generations. The environment can have an impact,
but it’s not really likely that the cancer only happened because
your mother didn’t eat organic fruits and vegetables.”

“Does that mean I’m going to get
cancer?”
Nice going, Miz Scarlet. Now
you’ve really done it.

“That’s not at all what it means. Your mom got sick
because she got sick. Sometimes there’s a predisposition to a
particular disease in your family, so you take steps to make sure
you’re not encouraging problems. For example, my dad had heart
disease. We didn’t know it until after he died. Later, we found out
his father had a massive heart attack when he was 58. This allowed
us to tell our family doctor we’re at risk, so he keeps an eye on
us, for signs that we might be getting symptoms of heart
disease.”

“Don’t you worry that you’ll just keel over
someday?”

“Once in a blue moon. But then I remind myself that I
am careful to eat healthy foods, I get plenty of exercise, and I
watch my weight.”

“Oh.”

“And to answer your question on organics, there are
some things I do in the garden to keep the fruits and veggies
healthier to eat. I don’t normally use pesticides or insecticides
unless I have no other choice, and when I do spray, I’m very
careful not to do it when I will be harvesting any produce.”

“Does that mean I can eat the blueberries off the
bush?”

“Knock yourself out, kiddo.”

“Awesome. Can I pick some and make a fruit
smoothie?”

“Absolutely.”

“My mom loved smoothies. They were her favorite
treat.”

We walked back to the house along the winding garden
path, Jenny nibbling on the handful of berries she grabbed as we
passed the bushes. January caught the scent of something under the
garden bench and wanted to dig.

“What’s she doing?” the teen wanted to know.

“Best guess? Chipmunk or mouse.” Huckleberry caught
the same scent and scooted into the bushes in pursuit. “He’s a
trained ratter. Yorkies were bred to go into tunnels for
rodents.”

“No way! That cute little puppy?”

“It’s in his genes,” I laughed.

Hilda Blevins was in the living room, watching Dr. Oz
discuss the intricacies of the bowels in great detail, when we
passed by. She hailed us with a request.

“Any chance I could get something to drink? Water,
soda....”

“Ice tea?”

“That would be lovely. And if you could put it in a
plastic cup, rather than a glass, I would appreciate it.” I saw
that trembling hand and knew exactly what she meant.

“Jen will be right back with it.”

In the kitchen, I grabbed a tall blue tumbler and
filled it with ice and tea, added a lemon wedge, and popped on a
lid with a built-in straw. The girl took it from me and smiled.

“That’s a good idea, Scarlet. She doesn’t have to
worry about spilling anything.”

“No, she doesn’t. Would you like a glass of
something?” I got down a matching tumbler.

“I get it. If I have my own drink, she won’t think
you’re using this because her hands shake. Clever.”

“You’re going to make a good nurse, Jenny.”

“I hope so.”

“I know so.”

As the days passed, we settled into a routine.
Mornings we spent cleaning the inn. Just before lunch, we headed to
the third floor, to tackle the new bedroom for the teen. Two coats
of lavender paint and some colorful fabric shades cheered up the
space nicely. We painted the antique pine floors and added a thick,
shag rug. In the afternoons, I tutored students and Jenny took
driving lessons. We often went hiking around three, and when we
returned, she helped me in the kitchen while I prepared dinner for
the inn guests and the Googins girls. At night, she gravitated to
the living room, where the adults played Scrabble, watched TV, or
chatted.