A Family of Strangers

by Emilie Richards

  She didn’t reply.

  “How about you?” I asked. “Are you keeping up with everything in the office without him?” And without my sister, I added silently.

  Her expression darkened. “I guess you don’t know. I was fired. I haven’t worked for Gracey Group for three months. I’m a part-time receptionist for a dentist.”

  I wanted to dive into the nearest display. “No one told me.”

  “I guess they didn’t think it was important.” She paused. “And I guess it wasn’t. Not to them.”

  “This is hard to imagine. I’m so sorry.”

  “Well, I’m glad you are.” She nodded, then she disappeared down the next aisle.

  In my head I calculated how long Ella had worked for my father. Twenty-five years? Even more? I couldn’t imagine what had happened to end that long, productive relationship, but I knew I couldn’t ask and upset my father at this delicate juncture of his life. I filed it away as one more thing to worry about.

  Back at home I debated plowing through more proposals for Out in the Cold’s next season, but with the clock ticking and Christmas right around the corner, I had to concentrate on finding my sister. Uncovering more about her situation might not guarantee she would be home for the holidays, but at least I would have a better idea what, if anything, I could do.

  I made a snack and, using a powerful search engine that flirted with sites on the dark web, I started looking for Milton Kerns. I had to exercise more care than usual, but dark web or not, nothing valuable came up.

  After a futile hour I made lunch before picking up the search again afterward, this time resorting to a private investigator database. By the time one o’clock rolled around, my eyes were so bleary I shut my laptop and took Bismarck for a run. The two of us returned to find Sophie waiting at my front door.

  I gave her a hug after assuring Biz she was a friend. “You didn’t say you were coming. Is everything okay?”

  “Couldn’t be better.” She practically glowed. “Hello, Bismarck.” She leaned over and held out her hand. “Are you taking good care of everybody?”

  He wagged his tail as he sniffed her hand, then wagged some more. Sophie looked up at me. “This is not a dog any man would allow out of his sight unless he had a personal interest in the outcome.”

  I unlocked the door and escorted her inside. “Don’t start.”

  “I’ll tell you my story if you tell me yours.”

  “Things going well with...” I searched my memory for the name of her new guy and failed. “Mr. Coffee?”

  “Ike. Ike Mason.”

  “A real name seems like a step in the right direction.”

  “He came to Delray two nights ago and took me to dinner. And today he’s having a backyard barbecue so I can meet his daughter and neighbors. That’s why I’m here. Now it’s your turn.”

  Sophie was dressed for a luau, not a barbecue. She wore a pink-and-purple dress that wasn’t quite a muumuu, but close enough. Her hair was pulled back on each side, anchored by sprays of silk flowers, and her earrings were as long and heavy as wind chimes. She was beaming.

  I took out a pitcher of iced tea and poured glasses for both of us. “You like this guy, don’t you?”

  “He’s almost too good to be true.”

  “You know that’s always a warning, right?”

  “Remember who you’re talking to.” She held up her hand and began to tick off what she knew. “Ten years ago his ex-wife found somebody with more money and ditched him. He finished raising their daughter alone in a town inland from here that has one traffic light. He taught middle school—still does—and he’s on the board of the local food bank. He resorted to online dating because too many local women were either former students or their mothers.”

  “And you know his social security number, his traffic violations, and how much money is in his retirement fund.” It wasn’t a question.

  She tossed her head and her earrings tinkled. “If I knew any of those things, do you think I’d admit it?”

  We took the tea out to the screened porch. A light breeze moderated the midday sunshine, and we made ourselves comfortable.

  “Teo?” she asked, getting down to business.

  I told her more about our encounter than I’d been able to on a short phone call, about Teo’s prosthesis and the fact I would probably blame myself for the loss of his leg forever.

  “Does he blame you?”

  I scratched around in my head, replaying our brief interactions. “I think he probably blames me more for leaving afterward.”

  “You deserted him after all that?”

  Sophie could ask because she knew me. “He pushed me away. Hard.”

  “He was pushing, but he blamed you?”

  “He lost so much, Sophie. And what did I lose except my patience with him?”

  She refused to let me wallow in guilt. “Your sense of security in the world, for starters. You were nearly killed, would have been if that monster Quayle had a better aim.”

  “I may be eternally paranoid now because of Quayle, but I’m still the one who held on to my profession and all my body parts.”

  “So how hard did you try to hold on to the man?”

  I wasn’t sure I remembered. After the nearly fatal encounter, I’d been so shaken that much of what had happened afterward was a blur. I hadn’t been able to sleep or eat. I visited Teo in the hospital, but that had only made my recovery more dicey. When I struggled to talk to him, he’d been either silent and seething or so out-and-out angry that I’d had to leave for both our sakes.

  “Not hard enough,” I said. “I couldn’t imagine he wanted anything to do with me again. But it was more than that. I was just so ashamed and so badly equipped to handle that much emotion.” I’d been staring into space. I looked at her. “I guess I thought putting everything behind us was best for both our sakes.”

  “Did you put it behind you?”

  “When I was a kid, whenever I got angry or had any strong feeling, my mother would tell me to go off and be by myself until I calmed down. That’s how we deal with emotions in my family. We leave until we can pretend we don’t feel anything. Everybody’s happier that way. I guess that’s what happened when I walked away from Teo. I went away until I thought it would be safe to see him again.”

  “So is it safe now?”

  I started to change the subject, but I realized that was exactly the way I’d been trained to react. I flashed on my nieces, who, judging from my interactions with them, were receiving the same training from their mother.

  “No, it’s not safe,” I said, and it felt good to say the words. “I’ve missed him every single day.”

  “Well, that’s encouraging. If nothing else, maybe the two of you can finally work through the past. Whatever the outcome.”

  “Strictly one day at a time. At least we’re talking.”

  “And you have his dog.”

  Bismarck was lying at my feet, in case Sophie turned out to be another serial killer. I reached down and scratched his head. “Are we going to giggle over guys the whole time you’re here? That would be fun, but is there another reason for this visit?”

  “News, of sorts. I found somebody who had access to the guest registry at the Golden Aspen Resort.”

  Sophie’s good at what she does, but this was surprising. “How?”

  “Sometimes the simplest way to get things done is the best. I called late last night and asked to be put through to your sister’s room. The desk clerk handed me on to the hotel operator, who sounded very young and bored. That was my lucky break. She said there was no guest registered by that name. I told her Wendy was waiting for my call. I asked her to check and see if Wendy might have switched rooms, or if that wasn’t true, when she had checked out. She shouldn’t have done the latter, I’m sure, but she did. She said nobody named Wendy Wainw
right had been registered in the previous weeks.”

  “Maybe she checked in under Gracey?”

  “She checked that, and Gracey Group, too. I told her that the paper I’d written this on was all smudged, and this must be the wrong hotel. I thanked her for her patience, and that was that.”

  “Are we back to square one?”

  “I don’t know. Either your sister was never there, or she was there under an assumed name.”

  “Why would she pretend to be somebody she’s not?”

  “You won’t like the answer.”

  I knew where Sophie was going, and she went.

  “People sometimes use aliases if they’re shacking up with somebody they shouldn’t be, which, in your sister’s case, would be anybody she wasn’t married to.”

  That was a possibility, although I didn’t like it. “She would still have to give the clerk a credit card to secure a room.”

  “Unless whoever she was with presented his.”

  “There are a lot of maybes there.”

  “So here’s another. Maybe that was what happened. But if not? It’s not that hard to get a credit card under an alias. She could simply ask her regular credit card company to add whatever name she liked to her account for a second or third card. People do it all the time for family members. And there are always reloadable or single-use credit cards.”

  “That would take a ridiculous amount of preplanning.”

  “It sure would.”

  My head was swimming. “How about a picture ID? Doesn’t a hotel ask for one?”

  “Depends, but didn’t you have a fake ID in college so you could visit your local bar or buy a six-pack? You know how easy they are to come by.”

  I couldn’t imagine my sister slinking through dark alleys to pay a forger to create an ID for her. It was so not Wendy. But, of course, trying to escape the law wasn’t exactly Wendy, either.

  I thought out loud. “It’s also possible Wendy was never at the Golden Aspen, and we have the wrong murder.”

  The burner phone in my pocket began to vibrate just a split second before it rang.

  I was stunned by my sister’s timing. “We can test our theory. Wendy’s calling.” I dug out the phone and held it up.

  “Want me to leave?”

  For the first time I realized the burner had a speaker button. Wasn’t it just like my sister to purchase the best, even for a throwaway? I made a split-second decision. “You stay and listen. Just don’t make any noise, okay?”

  Sophie put her finger to her lips.

  I cleared my throat and answered. “Wendy?”

  “Who else?” She sounded tired, but the words were meant to be a joke.

  “You’re okay?”

  “As okay as anybody can be in hiding.”

  I glanced at Sophie, who was leaning forward to hear better, and I got right down to business. “Listen, I did what you asked. I looked up Milton Kerns. But I don’t even know if I’m spelling his name correctly.”

  “I don’t know how it’s spelled. The guy’s a stranger.”

  I knew better than to probe that further, since she might hang up any minute. “I haven’t found anything, and that’s mostly because you’re dancing around the truth. You have to clue me in if I’m really going to help. You know I want to. I have some experience. Please tell me everything you can, so I can get down to work.”

  She was silent so long I wondered if she was going to hang up. But finally, she sighed. “I’m sorry, Ryan Rosie. I really hoped I’d be home by now, and this whole thing could just be a funny story to tell someday. But apparently, that’s not to be.”

  For a moment I couldn’t get past “Ryan Rosie.” Was Wendy trying to make me feel like a little girl again? Was using my pet name code? You’re my beloved baby sister, so don’t think you’re going to get the best of me?

  And what could ever be funny about a murder?

  Sophie pointed at the phone, and I realized I’d been silent too long. “Look, Wendy, I’m having problems finding any humor in taking care of your daughters while our father recovers from bypass surgery.”

  “Do you think I’m having a good old time? I’m not lying on a beach working on my tan.”

  I had purposely mentioned her daughters and my father. She hadn’t taken the bait and asked about either. “Then where are you? And when are you coming home?”

  When she didn’t answer, I took a gamble. “Does this have to do with the plastic surgeon who was murdered in New Mexico?”

  “You know about that? Has somebody called there?”

  “Nobody’s called or contacted me.”

  “I guess you’re just good at digging for details. That’s why I called you in the first place.”

  “Well?”

  A deep sigh resonated through the phone. “The whole thing is crazy. Beyond crazy. First, I didn’t murder anybody. You have to believe me. But yes, that’s why I’m afraid to come home.”

  “I need the story.” I resisted adding “now.”

  “You have time to listen? It might take a while.”

  I avoided looking at Sophie. “I do.”

  “At the end of my trip, I met a woman who worked at Golden Aspen. She mentioned that management was trying to find a buyer after an unsuccessful reorganization last year, and she hoped she could keep her job once it changed hands. She said management was desperate, and the resort would be a bargain for the right company.”

  My father had said something about Golden Aspen reorganizing. So far I was with her.

  “So you went to check it out?” I asked.

  “I was in Phoenix by then, and I had some time before my flight back to Florida. She encouraged me to drive over and see the place for myself. She hoped if she helped me, and Gracey Group became the new owner, I’d put in a good word for her. I guess I hinted I would try. Anyway, she told me she would show me around, and I could stay in her guest room for the night. Only, she called when I was practically in Santa Fe and said she’d had an emergency and had to fly to Washington for a week, maybe more, but she told me to take a good look when I got to Golden Aspen. She’d answer any questions when she got back.”

  “So you registered at the resort and spent a night or two?”

  “No, she left a key to her apartment where I could find it.”

  I was watching Sophie, and she shrugged. Now we knew why Wendy’s name hadn’t been on a guest list. I felt a wave of relief.

  “That just explains how you got there,” I said.

  “I decided to go ahead and look around. I spent a day checking out the facilities, without telling anybody what I was doing or why. I just wanted to see what looked good and what didn’t.” She paused, then gave a small, sad laugh. “I wanted to impress Dad. You know how he is. He loves initiative. Either way I’d have a story to tell.”

  That, too, rang true. Whether Golden Aspen had turned out to be a new acquisition or not, our father would have been proud that Wendy had followed up the lead.

  She continued. “I met Dr. Calvo while I was sitting at the bar ordering a drink. I wanted to see how well the lounge was run. I was making notes. It was all innocent. Vítor came up and asked if he could take the stool next to mine, and after one drink we moved to a table in the corner and ended up having dinner there. He was charming, very old-world, and he told great stories about some of the celebrities he’d worked on. I enjoyed talking to him.”

  “Dinner is hardly a reason to suspect you of murder.”

  She was speaking faster now. “Who knows? After the meal we were joined by another man, this Milton Kerns person, who was apparently also a guest. Vítor introduced him, but if he said how he knew him, I can’t remember. He was pleasant enough. I had another drink with them, but my mind was on the resort, so I wasn’t concentrating on the conversation. Afterward I thanked both men and went back
to the apartment and packed so I could drive to Phoenix and fly home the next afternoon. I was sleeping soundly when my phone pinged. I was afraid something had happened to one of the girls, so I sat up to read the text. Kerns told me the doctor had been murdered, and the police were probably going to look for me because I was one of the last people to have been seen with him before he was killed.”

  Sophie was frowning. I watched as she scrambled through her purse, pulled out a pen and scrap of paper and quickly jotted “Had her #?”

  I nodded. “Wendy, two things. Were the police already investigating at that point? And why did Milton Kerns have your phone number?”

  “At that point I don’t think anybody else knew about the murder except whoever killed Vítor. I texted back and asked him to call me. We were on the phone a minute or less. He said after they left the lounge he’d promised Vítor that he’d bring something to his room. I don’t remember what. He was talking so fast. A map? A book? He said he got there, and the door was ajar. He peered inside and saw Vítor’s body in a pool of blood.”

  “And he didn’t call anybody but you?”

  “I guess not. I’m pretty sure the body wasn’t discovered by anyone else until the next morning.”

  “So by then, you were long gone?”

  “It’s a nightmare. Talk about being in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

  I winced, thinking it had probably been more of a nightmare for the surgeon. Sophie pointed at her paper and shook it at me.

  “Wendy, how did Kerns have your number?”

  “I don’t know.” She paused. “Vítor and I had exchanged numbers. I figured if I ever wanted a little tuck or lift, he was the man to do it.”

  “Why did he need yours?”

  “He told me he gave talks all over the US to women of a certain age who might want to visit his clinic. He was so funny and personable, I knew the submarine officers’ spouses’ group in Connecticut would love to have him speak at our annual benefit. I asked him to have his office call me once he knew his schedule the next spring so we could arrange a presentation.”

  Sophie was rolling her eyes, but I ignored her. “No idea how Kerns got your number from him?”