Murder by Proxy (12 page)

Both Jillian and Karissa laughed watching Edna follow their instructions for making a taco and then trying to eat it without dumping the filling out the opposite end. She had finally gotten the hang of it and taken her first successful bite, savoring the spicy taste, so different from what she was used to, when the cell phone in her pocket went off. Excusing herself, she left the table and went into the next room to answer the call. Typically, she would have left it unanswered and picked up her message after dinner, but she had missed Albert's calls too often recently. As it turned out, it wasn't her husband but Ernie who was calling.

Edna looked at the clock on the mantelpiece. It was a few minutes past six. “I'll meet you there at eight.” She pressed the disconnect button after hearing Ernie grumble an impatient, “Okay.”

She pocketed her phone and, with a murmur of apology to Karissa and Jillian as she returned to the table, looked down at her partly-eaten taco. Bravely, she picked up the brittle tortilla shell and wedged the hamburger and toppings back into place with her fork before taking another bite. “Mmm,” she rolled her eyes at her granddaughter, making the child giggle with delight.

Later that evening, after settling Jillian into bed and telling Karissa that she wanted to pick up a few things at the store, she backed the Celica out of the garage and headed for the Safeway shopping center. She found Ernie at the same small table near the deli counter.

“What did you find out?” he asked, helping her off with her coat and presenting her with a lukewarm cup of coffee.

Pushing aside the Styrofoam cup, she leaned forward, bursting with her good news. “Anita will be in town next Friday, a week from tomorrow.”

Ernie's reaction wasn't what she expected. Throwing back his head with a look of anguish, he slammed a fist into the palm of his other hand. “That might be too late. The doctors say it'll be a miracle if Mrs. Maitland lasts through the weekend.”

Edna felt both surprise and dismay. “How do you know that?”

“My client. He says she probably won't even last that long. We've got to find her niece.” Ernie looked away momentarily before turning to ask, “Did you find anyone at all who has talked to Anita since her parents' funeral?”

“No one.”

“Anyone who might know how to reach her or where she might have gone?”

Again, Edna shook her head. She thought back to her conversation with Marcie. “Her supervisor thinks she's working somewhere in her territory. Grant's pretty sure she's gone off to be alone for a while. None of her friends or coworkers has seen or heard from her in the last five weeks, and although she's not been out of touch for this long a time before, nobody seems to be at all worried except for my son. I'm beginning to believe you're right. I think something has happened to her.”

“Isn't there anything you learned that might help track her down?” As he spoke, Ernie took the small notebook and pen out of his inside jacket pocket. “Did her supervisor mention a client's name? What about a favorite place? Has Grant said anything about where Anita goes when she wants to be alone?”

“No.” Edna shook her head. Disappointed at his reaction to what she'd thought would be good news, she forced her mind back over everything she had heard or seen that day. For a moment she thought of telling him about the black car but then decided not to. She would wait to hear from Sudie if it belonged to the boy next door. Feeling as though she had failed Ernie, she said, “What did you discover today?”

The detective turned a few pages in his notebook and studied his scribbles. “I talked to a guy I know works ski patrol during the winter, up where your daughter-in-law had her accident. He wasn't on the slope when it happened, but he knows someone who was. He said he'd talk to the kid and get back to me.” Ernie turned to the next page and read more of the hen-scratches before returning the notebook to his pocket. Apparently, there was nothing else he had to report.

The two sat in silence for a while, each with his or her own thoughts. She took a sip from the Styrofoam cup, but the liquid had turned cold and bitter. “Where do we go from here?” she asked, certain they had reached a dead end.

He shrugged, turning his face so he looked at her from the corner of his eye. “I'd still like to talk to your son.”

She didn't speak for several heartbeats. She knew she couldn't ask Grant to speak to Ernie. Instead, she changed the subject. “Will you show me where Anita lives? I think I can get away for a few hours tomorrow, and I'd like to see her place.” She didn't know why, but at that moment she felt the need to see not only Anita's home, but also her parents' house. It was something physical she could do, something other than sitting around doing nothing and getting nowhere.

Before he could answer, the cell phone in her tote began to jingle. Two women came into the deli area, chatting noisily, at the same time Edna spoke into the phone.

“No. I'm at the grocery store.” Probably because she was depressed at getting nowhere in the search for Anita, Edna felt herself growing irritated at Albert's interrogation. If he was so concerned about where she was or who she was with, why hadn't he stayed in Colorado? “Let me call you back when I've finished shopping.” She disconnected the call without waiting for his reply.

Ten

Grant was sitting at the kitchen counter when Edna walked in from the garage.

“Where have you been?” He sounded like his father.

Still irritated at Albert's implied suspicions, she did not trust herself to answer cheerfully. Instead, she held up a grocery bag containing the quart of milk and several apples she had bought before leaving the store. Before he spoke again, she turned her back to put her purchases into the refrigerator and get control of her temper.

“I got home right after you left.” He was looking at the kitchen wall clock when she spun back to face him. “You've been gone over an hour.”

“I wanted some time to myself,” she replied noncommittally. Her annoyance was growing over his questioning her, but at the same time guilt gnawed her conscience over having done something he'd specifically asked her not to do.

He must have seen a spark in her eyes because he said hastily, “I thought you'd be here taking care of Karissa and Jillian when I got home.” He paused, frowning for a second. “Jillian said you promised her a kitten. What's that all about?”

Edna began to unbutton her overcoat, still not fully in control of her temper. By the time she had removed the garment, she'd reassessed the situation. It wasn't typical of her son to lash out at her, particularly with absurd accusations. When she spoke, her tone was soft and calmer than she felt. “Karissa knew where I was and knows how to reach me if she needs to, and you know I wouldn't promise Jillian any such thing without your approval first. What's really bothering you, Grant?”

He backed down. She seemed to have knocked the wind out of his sails. “I'm sorry, Ma, but I started to worry about you when you were gone so long.”

“I've been out of the house barely an hour. I don't think that's what's troubling you.”

His gaze dropped to the newspaper spread before him on the counter, but she doubted he was reading. Maybe if she opened up to him, she could shake loose whatever was on his mind. She draped her coat over an arm and clutched it to her middle before beginning to speak. “Actually, I ran into Ernie, the detective, at the store.” She didn't explain that it had been a prearranged appointment. Let him assume what he would. When he raised his head, she saw anger begin to spread across his face. She hurried on before he could explode. “Why won't you talk to him? He's not going away, you know. Won't it be best if you simply tell him what you know?”

Grant stood and came around the counter. “I guess we'd better talk, Mother.” Taking her coat and with a gentle hand on her elbow, he steered her toward the living room. Draping the coat on a nearby chair, he motioned her to the sofa before taking the corner opposite her and resting an arm across the back as he turned to look at her.

“Apparently, I can't stop you from talking to Ernie Freedman, so I'm going to tell you what I know. You can decide if you should tell him or not, but I'm hoping you'll keep this to yourself.”

She nodded and waited for him to go on.

After a few seconds' pause, as if giving his mother a chance to say something, he continued. “Anita was supposed to come here for dinner the day after her parents' funeral. Instead, when Karissa and I got home from a doctor's appointment, there was a message on the answering machine.” He turned and leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees, clasping his hands together. “She said she was going away and would call when she could. She asked that we not mention anything to anyone—and she emphasized
anyone
—about the call. Karissa was having one of her bad days and had gone to lie down. Anita sounded scared. I didn't want to upset my wife, so I erased the message and told her only that Anita had decided to go away for a few days.”

“Anita didn't say where she was going or explain why she didn't want anyone to know?”

He sighed and swiveled his head to look over at her. “To be honest, I didn't hear everything she said. She must have been in her car, not at her house, and she was probably heading into the mountains because the call kept breaking up. I had to listen to the recording several times to understand the little I just told you.”

“Don't you want to know where she is?”

“Of course I do.” He ran both hands through his curly hair in a gesture of frustration as he straightened up. “Look, Ma, Anita was a bundle of nerves the last time I saw her. Her parents had just been killed in a freak accident, her marriage was on the rocks, and Rice was hassling her about the divorce.”

She was surprised at this last statement. “Does Rice want a divorce so he can marry Brea?” When she thought about it, she didn't feel Brea would be the type of wife a young, ambitious executive would pick. She thought Brea was too immature and self-centered to put a husband's career first. A woman like that was more likely to put his charge cards first. Edna's mind returned to matters at hand when she heard Grant's short, mirthless laugh.

“No, just the opposite. Rice has been trying to persuade Anita to drop the idea. Now that she's the one who wants out of the marriage, he's changed his tune. Guess he's as close to groveling as that ego of his will allow.”

“Aren't you concerned that you haven't heard anything from her in all this time?”

“Of course I am.” He looked at her as if surprised she needed to ask. “But she said she wanted to be alone. No matter how worried I might be, I have to respect that. She's smart. She can take care of herself. For heaven's sake, she drives around that desolate territory of hers for weeks at a time.”

Wondering if he was trying to convince himself as well as her, Edna reached out to touch his shoulder. Remembering what Ernie had said about a feeling of illusion, that Anita was there, but yet she wasn't there, she said, “If the message she left was so indistinct, are you certain it was Anita? Could it have been someone pretending to be her?”

He frowned. “Why would someone pretend to be her?” Picking up the remote control for the television, he sat back and frowned at her. “Don't go getting weird on me, Ma. I've told you what I know. She asked me to keep a confidence, telling me she needed to be alone for a while. Now, I'm asking you to respect
my
confidence.” As if to signal the end of the conversation, he turned the set to the ten o'clock news as he added, “Besides, there really isn't anything to tell.”

Edna caught very little of what the TV anchors had to say for the next twenty minutes or so. She was going over in her mind what Ernie had told her and what Grant had just said. She felt more than ever that something must have happened to Anita and snapped out of her reverie only when Grant turned off the television and the room went suddenly silent.

“I really wish you'd speak to Ernie.” She tried once more to reason with her son, wanting to provoke some urgency in him. “You consider her a friend, and there's a possibility that she might be in serious trouble. Ernie's a professional. What in her message can't you tell anyone? You don't even know where she's gone, do you? Why don't you want to help? Working together, you and he may be able to find her.”

With a deep sigh, Grant rose from his seat. “Ma, you haven't been listening to me. What if he's working for Rice? I won't betray her to a guy like that.” He bent to kiss her cheek. “I know you're concerned, but she'll show up. You'll see. Now, I've had a long day and I've really got to get some sleep.”

“Is it possible that Lia was killed because she knew Anita's whereabouts?”

He didn't react with the scorn she half expected. She had said it mostly to jar him out of a complacency she found both annoying and distressing. How could she instill in him some of her growing concern for Anita?

“You know, that's something that has never made sense to me. Lia didn't usually jog at that hour. Anita was the one who got up before dawn and ran before work, not Lia.” He had picked up the TV's remote control and fiddled with it for several seconds before his next question took her off guard. “Did Freedman ever tell you why he's so intent on finding Anita?”