Windward Secrets (12 page)

“That’s impossible,” Claire said, frowning.

“We thought it quite interesting,” Jill agreed.

“Did you ask anyone at the paper about it?” Diane inquired.

“No. As a cover, we told them we were doing genealogy.”

“Smart thinking Jill,” Claire said, forgetting she was pouring cream into her coffee until it overflowed into her saucer. “How were you treated at the library?”

“Fine. Why do you ask?” Jill said, taking a drink of iced tea.

“When we were coming into town, Chief Peterson was entering the library. That seems like a strange coincidence, doesn’t it?” Diane explained. Seeing Brittany returning with their meals she stopped talking and had an idea. “Thanks Brittany this looks great. Brittany, can you tell us how late the library is open?”

“Oh, sorry, I don’t read much, but you could call Mrs. Peterson and ask her?”

Claire was elbowing Caroline in the ribs. It was obvious Brittany was not a frequent visitor to the library.

“And, who would Mrs. Peterson be?” Diane pressed.

“She’s the librarian. Been there forever.”

“That’s interesting, the chief of police’s name is Peterson. Are they related?”

“Well, yeah… they’re married, is that related enough?”

“Of course. Aren’t small towns nice? Everyone knows everyone.”

“Need anything else?” Brittany said, with a smile and pointing in the direction of the other side of the room. “Just got another table.”

Caroline chirped, “We’re good. Thanks. You go.”

Brittany spun around and swiveled her curvy hips to the other side of the room.

“Smooth, Diane. Good thinking,” Claire said. “Do you suppose Mrs. Peterson was on the phone to Mr. Peterson as soon as Jill and Caroline left the library?”

“Why would she suspect anything?” Caroline asked.

“Woman’s intuition. I don’t think the chief likes to get out of his car on rainy days even to visit his wife in the library. Eating donuts in a warm car watching the waves seems more his speed.”

Diane looked at Jill and Caroline. “Did you do anything that would make the librarian suspicious? Did anyone see what you were researching?”

“We were very careful. We didn’t say why we wanted to use the computers and sat at the side of the computer table with our backs to the wall so no one could see what was on the screens,” Caroline answered.

“What about the history list on the computers?” she asked, looking at Jill.

“I buried them so deep it would take an extremely good IT guy to find them.”

“Good thinking. Where are the files now?”

“We sent them to all of our home emails just in case anything happened to our iPhones or…,” Jill said, not completing the sentence.

“Or what,” Claire asked.

“Your paranoia is contagious Claire… in case something happened to us there would be a trail.”

“You’re a genius Jill.”

“I’m impressed, Jill. How do you know all that?” Diane added.

“I work for an electronics firm, remember? Not really a big deal.”

Diane reached into her handbag for her phone. She hit some buttons and then said to Claire, “Give me your phone.”

“Why?”

“I just sent Jill and Caroline’s files and my pictures from Wendell’s basement to my office printer and I want to forward your pictures too. I’ll have Karen, my assistant, send hard copies to us by private courier.”

“Excellent,” Claire said, handing over her phone.

Jill set down her coffee cup and looked at Claire. “How did you and Diane make out?”

“We struck out. Didn’t find anything.”

Caroline pushed her plate to the side and pulled a large envelope out of her purse. “Jill and I have more to tell you.” Opening the envelope she pulled out a legal size sheet of pink paper.

“What’s that?” Diane asked.

“This is a contract from the realtor to rent Windward Cottage for another week. I had decided, even before we got involved in the Wendell thing that I was not ready to go home. So…I rented the house for another week. I hope you all can re-arrange your schedules to stay longer, but if you can’t I understand.”

Diane was the first to respond. “Are you serious Caroline? You really want to stay another week?”

“Well, I know I don’t want to go home, for obvious reasons. I’m not happy about this mess we’ve stumbled into, but I think we need to at least try to do something about it.”

“I can work remotely, I guess,” Diane said. “I’ll tell Karen to keep me updated and if anything serious comes up I can always drive back to Boston.”

Jill chewed her bottom lip. “Gee, I don’t know. I’ll have to call my boss and see if I can have some more time. I have another week of PTO but I was saving it for a rainy day.”

Caroline chuckled. “Jill, in case you haven’t noticed, it’s raining.” Then turning to Claire she asked, “What about you Claire?”

“This is very generous of you, Caroline. Thank you. Of course, I want to stay but I’ll have to run it past Spence and, like Jill, I’m going to have to get approval from work.”

Jill leaned toward Claire. “You have that look on your face.”

“What look?” Claire said, spoon halfway to her mouth.

“That look that says your brain is working overtime.”

Returning her spoon to her bowl, Claire leaned back against the back of the booth. “I was just wondering how much information we could get out of chatty Brittany. Like Diane said, people in small towns know everyone and I’m betting they know everyone’s business too. Let’s make sure we leave Brittany a big tip. We may need her.”

“May I make a suggestion?” Diane asked.

“Of course,” the other three said, in unison.

“As interesting as all of this cloak and dagger stuff is, I think we need a change of pace. Let’s spend the afternoon shopping or, at the very least, window shopping. It wouldn’t hurt to walk around town a little.”

“I agree,” Jill said. “Too much sitting this morning. Let’s walk.”

The foursome paid their bill, including a large tip for Brittany, and left the restaurant.

***

Jill and Caroline drove out of town first with Claire and Diane following.

“Shopping turned out to be fun, didn’t it Claire?” Diane asked, looking at her friend in the driver’s seat.

“Yes, it was relaxing and a nice change.”

“I’m very excited about the Claire Murray rug I bought. I’ve always wanted one,” Diane said.

Claire was silent. The rain had started again and she reduced her speed on the narrow road. Looking in the rearview mirror she slowed down even more.

“Hey Diane, don’t turn around, guess who’s behind us?”

“Don’t make me guess, just tell me.”

“It’s Wendell and he’s right on our bumper.”

“What’s his hurry? Can’t he see it’s raining?”

“I guess not. I think I’ll slow down even more.”

“Claire, are you trying to antagonize him?”

“Ya know, Diane, I believe I am,” she smirked.

“Claire, you’re acting like a teenager. For heaven’s sake, let’s not make things worse.”

Claire continued at the slow pace. “Diane, think about it. If I annoy him enough he might come after me and then we would have something to go to the police with.”

“Yeah… or to the funeral director. In this rain, on this narrow road, you could get us killed.”

“We’re almost to the cottage. He’s just going to have to wait.” Claire calmly drove the short distance to Windward Cottage and turned into the driveway.

Ike ran to the car and jumped up on Claire. “Down boy. It’s okay. We’re home.”

Jill and Caroline were waiting for them in the parlor. “What took you so long? You were behind us one minute and gone the next.”

Claire went to the kitchen for a towel to dry Ike.

Diane collapsed her umbrella and dropped it in the stand beside the door. “Claire decided to try and get us killed.”

“What are you talking about,” Caroline asked.

As Claire dried Ike, Diane repeated the conversation they had in the car while Wendell followed them.

Jill plopped down on the closest chair. “Maybe that’s not such a bad idea, but Claire, you’re not his type. He likes defenseless, little girls.”

“I know but, maybe, with enough pressure he’ll crack.”

Caroline grew impatient with the conversation. “This is crazy. Forget it. If we can compile information for the authorities, that’s where this ends.”

Diane moved to the fireplace and knelt down. “It’s chilly in here. I think I’ll beat our mysterious visitor to the fire tonight. Can someone find me some newspaper?” Just as the fire caught Diane’s phone rang. “Oh geez, someone please grab that until I get up. Darn arthritis!”

Jill reached into Diane’s bag and pulled out the phone. “It’s Ed. Maybe he has some information for us.”

“Hello,” Diane said, taking the phone from Jill. “Hi. I’m good and you? You did? Great... Let me get a pencil and paper. Go on... Yes… Really? Interesting. Thank you so much, we really appreciate it… I’ll explain everything later… No, I won’t be home on Saturday after all. We’ve decided to stay another week. Yes, I’ll keep you posted.” Diane turned her back on her friends and talked a little longer in a quiet voice. “Goodnight, Ed.”

“Hmmm… what was that all about Diane,” Jill asked, with a wink.

Diane blushed. “I told him I wanted to have a long talk with him when I get home.”

“Very good, Diane,” Caroline said, giving her the thumbs up sign.

Diane ignored her and turned to Claire and Jill. “Ed did the check on Wendell.”

“And…,” Claire asked, anxiously.

“First of all, his first name isn’t Wendell, it’s Lloyd. He’s Lloyd Wendell, Jr.”

“He’s a junior? Hmmm… from the age of the truck in the photo, his father must have been in the plumbing business first and then passed it to him,” Claire thought, out loud.

Diane pressed on. “His mother left the area when Wendell was only six. She was never heard from again.”

“Probably knocked her off too,” Jill interrupted.

Diane gave Jill “the look” and continued. “Here’s the really interesting thing. Wendell, I’m so used to calling him that I can’t change now…is a few years younger than us, which means he would have been very young when Betsy disappeared. Do you believe a young boy could have gotten away with that and carried out all the other abductions?”

“No,” Claire said. “But his dad could have.” After several seconds she added, “You know, the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree….”

“Oh my God,” Caroline said, with a giggle. “Is pedophilia hereditary?”

“Caroline, this is no time to joke,” Diane said. “If a child is raised in that kind of environment he would have a hard time knowing right from wrong.”

“You’re not making excuses for him are you Diane?” Jill asked.

“Certainly not. Just thinking out loud. What a horrible thing to do to your own son, not to mention those poor girls.”

“Anything else?”

“Nope. Not even a parking ticket.”

Jill spoke up. “Do you think Mrs. Wendell knew what was going on and that’s why she left? I wonder if she’s still alive.”

“Two good questions, Jill,” Diane said.

Caroline stood and stretched. “Is anyone getting hungry?”

“How about a good, old spaghetti dinner,” Jill offered. “I got some great, Italian bread at the bakery and homemade meatballs at the deli. I think we have everything else we need, right Claire?”

“Yes, there’s pasta and sauce in the cupboard.”
              “I’ll make a salad,” Caroline volunteered.

“And, I’ll drink the wine,” Diane said, with a grin.

Claire placed another log on the fire and followed the others into the kitchen.

Just as they were about to eat Jill’s phone rang. She took the call in the parlor and then returned to the kitchen with a dejected look.

“Anything wrong, Jill?” Caroline asked, placing the freshly, sliced bread in the middle of the table.

“No. Not really. Drew isn’t coming back until Sunday. Something came up and he has to stay in Boston longer than expected. He was calling to ask us to make arrangements for Ike at a kennel, but I told him we’re staying another week and that we’d be happy to keep Ike.” Looking around the room she added, “Was that okay?”

Claire, Diane, and Caroline all agreed it was fine. “Frankly,” Claire added. “I’m really going to miss Ike when he goes home.” Reaching down she slipped the dog a meatball under the table.

After the meal was finished, and the kitchen clean, the women returned to parlor.

“How about some poker?” Jill suggested.

The chips were divided, the cards dealt, and they put on their best, poker faces. Old stories of past vacations and college days filled the air, and thoughts of anything else receded into the dark corners of the old house.

“Now this is what vacations are supposed to be like,” Caroline said, laughing at one of Jill’s stories.