Murder by Proxy (18 page)

Karissa looked surprised, probably wondering what sort of errand Edna would have in a place she had rarely been before, but Karissa didn't question her. “Sudie is already planning on coming over later this morning for another sewing session. I'm sure we'll be fine. Jillybean will be glued to the television for the next couple of hours.” She took a sip of orange juice watching Edna eat a piece of toast, then asked, “Will you be gone long? I think Grant wanted to take you and Jilly to the Denver Botanic Gardens this afternoon. It's supposed to be a nice day, and the paths through the gardens are very pretty.”

“I hope to be back by noon,” Edna replied vaguely. She suspected Karissa was full of curiosity but appreciated that she didn't ask any more questions.

Karissa hadn't exaggerated. The day was beautiful, warm and sunny even at eight-thirty, which was when Edna was finally able to get away. First, she had washed up the few breakfast dishes and made sure Karissa was comfortably situated on the couch. Jillian, sitting two feet from the wide-screen television and hunched over a large sofa pillow, seemed oblivious of her grandmother's departure.

When she turned west onto 120th, she was captivated by the majestic beauty of the Rocky Mountains before her. Off to her right,
north
, she mentally corrected herself, the sun picked out one particularly tall peak with snow lying in patches on the darkly rugged rock. Closer in, gold and gray aspen groves wove through acres of blue-green spruce trees, marching into the foothills and back along the Front Range. It was a breathtaking panorama and made the half-hour drive to Eldorado Canyon utterly enjoyable.

Turning north onto Route 93, she found Eldorado Springs Drive and followed it west until she reached the small town. Even at that hour, there were several cars heading into the canyon with her. Probably going either to the resort where, Ernie had told her, people went to buy jugs of artesian well water, or to Eldorado Canyon State Park where the technical climbers crept like spiders up the sides of sheer, five-hundred-foot cliffs.

She drove along the narrow road, keeping to her right as she had been instructed, until she finally reached a point where she would have to climb a rather steep narrow road or head back along the north side of the river that she'd been following on its southern bank. “Creek” was what they called rivers in this part of the country, she remembered as she turned downhill and maneuvered Grant's little red Celica along the dirt road between cars parked head-to-taillights on both sides. She was thankful she was in a small vehicle and glad that there was no other traffic on the narrow lane. Considering the amount of activity at the mouth of the canyon, she was surprised to see nobody about in the neighborhood.

Houses clung to the side of the hill on her left and hugged the riverbank to her right. She drove slowly and carefully, hoping to spot someone and ask for more explicit directions. She had passed several houses without finding any place to pull off and park, when she spotted a man and a dog in the road ahead of her. Back turned, the man was tossing a yellow Frisbee to the German shepherd who leaped up to catch the disc in midair. The two frolicked before a small house which was painted bright blue and which stood not more than six feet off the road.

He must have heard the sound of her tires on the gravel, for at about that time the man turned, and she recognized him at once. Yonny Pride. She couldn't believe her luck. Slowing to a near crawl, she nosed the car into a narrow slot between the tiny house and a late-model Ford Bronco. As she did so, she saw Yonny shake his head and motion her down the road. When she stopped the car and turned off the motor, he approached the Celica, saying something she didn't immediately understand. She opened the door and stepped out.

“What did you say?”

“I said you can't park here. This is all private property. There's public parking where you first come into the canyon.” He pointed down the road. About that time, the dog came running up, tail wagging and Frisbee clamped tightly in her jaws.

“Oh, I'm not a tourist. I've come to see you,” she replied, firmly closing the car door and walking toward him.

Yonny stopped pointing and bent to take hold of the dog's collar. Frowning slightly, he studied her face. “Do I know you?”

She eyed the dog for a moment and decided she looked more gentle than menacing, so she turned her gaze back to Yonny. “We met at Lia Martin's funeral. I'm Grant Davies' mother, Edna.” She extended a hand for him to shake.

“Of course,” he said, after only a few seconds of studying her. Then, releasing the dog, he took her hand. “Sorry, I didn't recognize you at first.”

She smiled. “No reason you should. I'm probably not someone you'd expect to see up here.” She looked around, admiring the landscape. “It seems very peaceful for so many houses and cars clustered together. Also, I'm amazed to see so many tiny, well-tended gardens. It must be a labor of love in this rocky soil and limited daylight.”

Yonny nodded, but the frown still wrinkled his brow. The dog nudged his hand with the Frisbee, distracting him briefly. He took the toy absently and replied, despite his obvious curiosity, “Most residents tend to stay home on weekends, but they enjoy being outdoors. Mostly that leaves them working in their yards. The canyon gets crowded on Saturdays and Sundays, especially when the weather's good.” When the dog kept bumping his hand with her head, he said sternly, “Sit, Greta.”

The canine promptly obeyed, and Yonny turned back to Edna, finally acknowledging her earlier announcement. “You came looking for me?”

“Yes, I did. I'm hoping you can help me locate someone.”

He turned his back and took a moment to hurl the Frisbee down the road. At his terse command, Greta ran to catch up with the missile. Only then did Yonny turn his attention back to Edna. A look of suspicion clouded his face. “You need my help to locate someone?” He repeated her words as a question, as if he hadn't heard correctly.

“Yes. I've been told that you're a friend of Anita Collier.”

She thought she saw something flicker in his eyes but couldn't be certain, since at that moment he appeared to stumble as if his ankle had suddenly given out on him. She reached for his arm to steady him. “Are you all right?”

“Yes, I'm fine.” He pulled free of her as Greta trotted up to them. “Recent injury still shoots a pain now and then.”

She thought he sounded uncertain and wondered momentarily why he felt he needed to explain and why his excuse rang false to her ears. Mentally shrugging it off as her imagination gone haywire, she motioned toward his dog. “Please, let me.” She took the Frisbee from Greta, thinking she would give Yonny a chance to regain his composure. Whatever made him stumble a moment ago didn't seem to her to be his ankle, but it did appear to upset him.

With her right hand, she leveled the disc behind her left elbow before flinging her arm outward, releasing the Frisbee at the last moment. It wobbled and fluttered onto the wooden walk in front of the house next door. Jillian would have moaned and hidden her face, Edna thought, grimacing.

“Good try,” Yonny said, as Greta pranced up and dropped the toy at his feet. After sending the dog far down the road after the flying disc, he turned to her, appearing to have recovered his previous mien. “Would you like to see some of the neighborhood?” She noted that his ankle seemed not to bother him at all when he started down the hill after his dog. They passed several houses in silence before Yonny spoke again. “Do you know anything of the history of this canyon?”

“Not a thing,” she admitted. “Until this morning, I didn't even know it was here.”

Yonny seemed pleased at the chance to play tour guide. “One of the more recent events that might interest you is that Ike and Mamie Eisenhower honeymooned here.”

Delighted with this piece of knowledge about a former President she had admired, she said, “What brought them to Colorado? I know they met in Texas, which was his home State.”

“Mamie's family had a winter home in San Antonio, but she grew up in Denver,” Yonny said, obviously proud of the area and happy to relay his information. “Many celebrities have spent time in this canyon over the years. The Eldorado Springs resort was quite a hot spot in the early nineteen hundreds. Glen Miller played in the local dance hall.” Yonny paused to look at her and added, “but that was before he became famous.”

They walked on with Yonny describing more of the town's colorful past, pausing occasionally to throw the Frisbee to the tireless Greta. Edna was fascinated by the row of houses, built so closely together they seemed almost connected, and by the narrow canyon itself.

“Those walls are eight hundred feet high,” Yonny informed her as she stared at the sheer rock face opposite where they were standing. “There are some very famous climbs here. People come from all over the world just to scale these cliffs.”

“Is that what brought you here?” She pulled her eyes from the view to look at him.

“Partly. I've read about this area ever since I got interested in technical climbing. When a friend of mine invited me to stay at his place, I jumped at the chance.”

“So you're here on vacation?” She felt herself relax. The sun was warm on her face, and she was enjoying her visit with this personable young man.

“Sort of. I want to look at the veterinary school in Fort Collins before I leave.”

Something in the back of her mind perked up when she heard the word “veterinary.” She racked her brain until she realized it was Ernie's mentioning Anita's great-aunt's money would go to a veterinarian if an heir couldn't be found before the old woman died. That thought brought her back to the reason she had come to this canyon and with the thought came another: She must conduct her business and be home by lunchtime. She looked at her watch.

“I'm afraid I must be getting back, but before I go, can you tell me if you know how I might reach Anita.” She had already decided during the drive to Eldorado Springs that she would give him the same reason she'd given Rice. “She was such a good friend of my daughter-in-law, Grant's first wife, that is, I do want to meet her and thank her for her kindness to my family.”

Yonny rubbed a hand across the back of his neck before answering. “I'm afraid whoever told you I was Anita's friend was mistaken. I knew her, of course, but only through Lia. I was giving Lia climbing instructions, and Anita came with her once or twice. I'm sorry, but I can't help you.”

The disappointment must have shown on her face because Yonny put a hand lightly on her shoulder before she turned back toward the car. “If she happens to show up at any of the climbs, I'll ask her to call you.”

Feeling as if the energy had left her body, Edna only nodded and trudged up the sloping road, back to her car. As she approached the small blue house, she noticed the sunlight sparkling off a stained-glass oval in the window. It was a lovely abstract design with unusual colors and fluid shapes. The window hanging seemed vaguely familiar, but try as she might, she couldn't remember where she had seen a similar one. Finally, with a shake of her head, she stopped trying, and her thoughts took a different turn. How was she going to tell Ernie that the search for Anita had come to a halt in this little dead-end canyon?

Sixteen

Perhaps it was the lack of information she was able to glean from her visit with Yonny that made Edna review every word and nuance of the conversation they'd had. Trying to hang onto the smallest scrap of hope, she realized that Yonny never actually said that he hadn't seen Anita or that he didn't know where she was, only that he hadn't known her well.

She had expected to be home by noon, but with the weather being so nice, traffic was heavy between Boulder and Denver, and it was nearly one o'clock before she pulled into the garage at Grant's house. Karissa was lying on the couch in the living room, flipping through one of her sewing magazines. She looked up as Edna came in from the dining room.

“Hi,” she said, tossing the magazine onto the coffee table. She plumped the pillows at her back and sat up a little straighter. “You've just missed Grant. He's taken Jillian to the zoo. They left about fifteen minutes ago.”

“How are you feeling?” Edna didn't think the young woman looked very comfortable. She felt guilty and didn't wish to talk about Grant, knowing she had disappointed him.

It seemed Karissa had other ideas. Ignoring Edna's inquiry after her health, she hesitated briefly before speaking in a low, gentle voice. “Will you sit down for a minute, please? I think we need to talk.”

Edna felt the heat rise in her cheeks, certain that her daughter-in-law was about to scold her for staying away so long. Without removing her coat, she lowered herself onto the seat of an armchair, facing Karissa, and clutched her tote bag in her lap as if it could shield her against words.

“I feel that things are tense between you and Grant.” Karissa raised a hand, palm out, as Edna opened her mouth to speak. “No, please, let me continue. Something has been gnawing at Grant since before you arrived. I think, in part, he's been taking out his anger or frustration or whatever it is on you. I thought if we talked about it, maybe we could figure out what's bothering him.” Her eyes were pleading as she looked at Edna.

Hesitantly, and somewhat relieved that Karissa's intent wasn't to scold her, Edna said, “Have you asked Grant what's bothering him?”

Karissa sighed heavily, playing with some fringe on the edge of a sofa pillow. “I've tried. He says I shouldn't worry my pretty head, that I should think only about our baby. You know, stupid stuff. Anything to avoid upsetting me. What he doesn't seem to realize is that it's worse not knowing.”

Giving herself time to think, Edna set her bag beside the chair, stood and took off her coat. Draping the garment over the chair back, she moved to the sofa, wrapping Karissa's feet more snugly in the afghan as she lifted them onto her lap and began to massage the toes beneath the yarn. All the while, she wondered how much to confide in her daughter-in-law. She was almost certain that Grant's moodiness was due in large part to Anita's disappearance. Eventually, she decided that Karissa had a right to know. At least, she had a right to know what Edna had been doing and why. Who knew? Maybe Karissa would have some idea as to where Anita could have gone. So she began her story, telling her daughter-in-law everything that had happened, beginning with meeting Ernie at Lia's funeral service.