A Vintage View of Murder

by Mary Maxwell

  “That’s very true,” I said, “including the Hale family.”

  Louella managed a soft grin. “Money can’t buy you happiness,” she said. “But they had enough trouble before Evie was kidnapped.”

  “What kind of trouble?”

  “Well, it wasn’t all that different from what a lot of people deal with,” she replied. “Rowdy kids and their friends, husband-wife squabbles, a dispute with the couple that lived next door about hedge rows and barking dogs. And despite what I just said, Sean and Roz actually did a good job of keeping their disdain for one another in the shadows. They never argued in front of the kids or tried turning Evie and Dwayne against the other parent.”

  “Thank goodness for small miracles,” I said.

  She smiled. “I thought the very same thing just about every day that I worked for the family.”

  “How long was that?” I asked.

  “Six years,” she said.

  “Did you notice anything unusual before Evie was abducted?”

  Louella thought about my question for a few moments, nibbling on one thumbnail and glancing away. When she looked up again, her luminous smile was gone.

  “I don’t really recall anything particularly troubling,” she said. “Like I told the police back then, it seemed like any other week. The kids went to school. Mr. Hale was on a business trip. And Mrs. Hale spent most of her time shopping or doing volunteer work around town.”

  “What about Dwayne?” I said. “Anything unusual about his behavior?”

  She shook her head. “He was always pretty quiet and aloof,” she said. “His friends would come over, but they spent most of the time in Dwayne’s room.”

  “Who were his friends in high school? I asked. “Did they spend much time at the Hale house that summer?”

  “Well, that was actually the summer between his sophomore and junior years,” Louella said. “I remember seeing both his friends from school and some of his new acquaintances that he met elsewhere around town.”

  “Anyone in particular stand out?”

  “Dwayne never had too many friends,” she said. “At least, not in the way that you and I would think of friendships. But the two that I’ll never forget, because they came over so often it seemed like they’d moved in, are Caroline Whitman and Justin Kennedy. I believe that Caroline met Evie through her brother and that’s how both girls met Justin. I can remember a few others, but I don’t know their names. Whenever the Hale children were out of school for the summer, it was like a revolving door had been slapped on the place. From noon to night, a steady stream of kids would come and go. Since I was just the housekeeper, Dwayne and Evie didn’t bother to introduce me to most of them.”

  “But you remember Caroline and Justin being there together?”

  She smiled. “Not together together,” she said. “Justin was one of Evie’s boyfriends at the time.”

  “One of?”

  Louella’s smile faded. “Evie was always a rebellious girl. I think she went out with Justin and the older married guy to annoy her parents.”

  “Okay, I didn’t expect older and married,” I said. “Do you know who it was?”

  Louella inhaled deeply. “It still makes me upset,” she said. “I never had proof, but I always suspected it was Vince Stafford. The age difference wasn’t that extreme, maybe five or six years. And if it was true, he was cheating on his wife. In the end, all of that was ignored by her parents after she went missing.”

  “What about Evie’s friends from school?” I asked. “Did they all get along well?”

  “More or less,” Louella said. “I suppose that they had small rifts now and then. Otherwise, it was just a small group of friends with a lot in common.”

  “Such as?”

  “Well, not Justin,” she said. “But Caroline’s family has money, too. So Dwayne, Evie and Caroline grew up like a lot of rich kids: silver spoons, private tutors, tennis and piano lessons, first-class travel, Mexico at Christmas and European vacations in the summer.”

  “Lucky kids,” I said. “It must be nice to—”

  “Wait!” Louella cut in. “There were two other classmates that came over to play video games with Dwayne and Justin on weekends. One was Richie Quinlan, but he stopped coming around after his driver’s license was suspended for too many speeding tickets. And the other boy was Thomas Dillon. He was always so polite. If I made snacks for the group, Thomas was the only one who offered to help wash dishes after they were finished eating.”

  “That’s a pretty great memory,” I said.

  “I loved that family, Katie. Despite my son’s illness, those were some of the best years of my life. And my comments earlier probably made it sound like a house of horrors, with all the bickering and tension, but I think Evie and Dwayne were happy kids.”

  “You mentioned piano lessons,” I said. “Was that for both of them?”

  She shook her head. “Just Evie,” she said. “They were both originally learning to play, but Dwayne broke his arm and never went back to the piano after the cast came off. Both of them took tennis lessons.”

  “Do you remember the instructors?” I asked.

  Louella sighed. “Oh, yes,” she said. “We just lost their piano teacher a few months ago. Angela Walker. She survived cancer the first time about four years ago, but it came back. She and I were in the same sorority, so we’ve been close since our late teens.”

  “And for tennis?”

  “Vince Stafford,” said Louella. “He’s a nice man, but his marriage has always been a little bit bumpy.”

  “I didn’t know that he was married,” I said.

  “Not a surprise,” she replied. “He and Sandra moved to town a few months after you left for Chicago. They tried counseling for the longest time, but she eventually got tired of his gambling issues and filed for divorce.”

  “Wow! I didn’t know about the gambling either.”

  “It’s certainly not the kind of thing he’d brag about,” she said.

  “You’re right. He comes in for lunch a couple of times a month, but we usually chat about the weather or his dogs.”

  She made another face. “Those dogs! They poop in the park and Vince never cleans up after them. Maybe you could mention it to Deputy Chief Walsh the next time you see him.”

  “I’d be happy to,” I said.

  “If I wasn’t covered with dirt and fertilizer,” Louella said, “I’d run inside and get our petition. A bunch of us are going to ask that Vince and his dogs be permanently banned from all the parks in town. They’re a nuisance. I ruined a pair of walking shoes a couple of months ago and Sally Morris slipped on some of their mess and broke her wrist.”

  Louella pointed at her eyes. “I witnessed the whole thing!” she said through gritted teeth. “I saw his dogs poop. I saw Sally slip. And I saw Vince shrug his shoulders and tell her to be more careful next time.”

  “In that case,” I said, “bring your petition by Sky High the next time you’re out and about. Julia, Harper and I will gladly sign it.”

  CHAPTER 17

  “What’s the petition about?” Dina asked.

  It was a half hour after I left Louella Flint’s house. Instead of waiting until I was back home, I’d decided to return her call from the parking lot at Food Town. She sounded a smidge grumpy when she answered, so I started with Louella’s attempt to keep Crescent Creek beautiful. I thought it might lighten Dina’s mood a little, but the plan backfired.

  “Vince Stafford’s dogs poop in the parks,” I said. “I just wanted to give you a heads up.”

  She sighed into the phone. “I don’t even know what to say, Katie. I asked you to talk with Louella about Evie’s kidnapping and you’re telling me about dog poop. Are you that out of touch with what’s truly important?”

  Her voice was especially cold and sharp. It didn’t happen very often, but if she was tired and stressed, Dina could eviscerate you with a handful of words and a cutting tone. I hadn’t intended to irritate her, but I
could tell that I was on thin ice and needed to move on to my conversation with Louella.

  “They’re actually related,” I said. “But I’ll save that for another day.”

  “Good call,” she replied. “So what did Louella tell you?”

  “Working for the Hale family was not all rainbows and unicorns,” I said. “According to Louella, Sean and Rosalind Hale spent a lot of time arguing. They were also very interested in keeping their dirty laundry out of the rumor mill.”

  “I witnessed one of their spats,” Dina said. “It was before Evie’s kidnapping. I was working as a volunteer one weekend for the local food pantry. That was Mrs. Hale’s last year on the board of directors, and I think her husband came to lend support. Instead, they got into a big blowout about how the silent auction was organized. It was so weird because until that moment I always imagined their life was like a TV show.”

  “Well, Louella apparently had a front row seat for their disagreements,” I said. “From what she told me, the Hale family had a lot of secrets that they tried to keep under wraps.”

  “Do you think any of those related to the kidnapping?”

  “Hard to say. Louella seemed a little uncomfortable talking about it, even after all these years.”

  “Did she give you anything helpful?” Dina asked.

  “It all seemed pretty normal,” I said. “Dwayne and Evie had friends coming and going with regularity, but Louella didn’t seem to think there was anything disreputable going on.”

  “Did you get names?” she said.

  “It sounds like Caroline Whitman and Justin Kennedy were the most frequent guests,” I said.

  “Along with Richie Quinlan and Thomas Dillon.”

  “Can you send those to me in a text?” Dina asked. “I want to run them through the system just to be on the safe side.”

  “I’ll do that right after we finish talking,” I said.

  “Aren’t you at home?” she asked.

  “Food Town,” I said.

  She laughed. “Seriously? Where are you?”

  “Why?” I said. “Are you here, too?”

  I heard a horn squawking nearby.

  “That was me,” Dina said. “I’m on the north side of the lot near the light pole. I’ll be working late tonight, so I came over to get something for dinner that doesn’t come out of a vending machine.”

  “You can get delivery next time,” I said. “Save yourself the trip.”

  She sighed. “I know, but I wanted some fresh air. I’ve been locked up in that building all day.”

  “Are you coming or going?” I asked. “I need to run in and buy a few things for home.”

  “Coming,” she said.

  “Wait for me and we can go in together,” I said.

  “Sounds great,” Dina replied. “It’ll be nice to see a friendly face.”

  “Plus,” I said, “I can give you the details about Louella’s petition. I’ve never seen her so fired up. I thought you’d want the scoop in advance because I think she’s going to ask you to be an advocate for the effort.”

  “And it’s about dogs at the park?”

  I laughed. “Something like that,” I said. “I’ll meet you just inside the front door in a second.”

  CHAPTER 18

  Becca Harwood leaned against the center island in the Sky High kitchen, glaring at her mother and idly twirling a lock of auburn hair. It was a few minutes past five that afternoon. We’d been running through the final checklist for her graduation party when Becca suddenly announced that she had a last-minute request.

  “I’m old enough to know what I like,” she said for the millionth time. “And so do my friends. We’re adults, Kenzie. We know what—”

  “We’ve talked about that, sweetheart,” Kenzie said crisply. “Please don’t call me Kenz, Kenzie or Mama Bear.”

  “You are so old-fashioned,” Becca whined. “Dawn and Melissa use their mothers’ first names.”

  “Hooray for them,” Kenzie replied. “What’s the problem now? Why are you being like this? We agreed about the plans for your party.”

  Becca shook her head. “Actually, you agreed for me. I tried to tell you what I really want.”

  “Okay, let’s move on,” Kenzie suggested. “What would you rather do instead of a cooking class?”

  Her daughter’s eyes widened in surprise. “Really?”

  “Yes, sweetie,” Kenzie replied. “I think Kate, Julia and Harper would gladly make some minor adjustments if they can.”

  The room was so quiet that I was certain I heard Harper’s eyes roll around in her head and Julia’s jaw muscles ping-ping-ping as they tightened into a fixed grimace.

  “What do you have in mind?” I asked Becca.

  Her eyebrows shot up. “Do you really want to know?”

  “Definitely,” I said. “If we have enough of the ingredients for your group in the walk-in and pantry, we can make some changes once your friends get here.”

  Julia and Harper exchanged a worried glance.

  “And if we don’t have enough,” I continued, “we’ll try to figure out how to wing it.”

  “Uh, that sounds good,” Julia said nervously. “But we need to keep tomorrow’s breakfast and lunch service in mind.”

  I turned to face my two-member team. Harper’s expression was an uncharacteristic combination of panic and fear. Julia looked fatigued and worried, neither of which contributed to a healthy, happy chef as she prepared for an evening event.

  “We’ll be fine,” I said. “If necessary, I can call in a favor from our main supplier to rush a special delivery of anything that we’re running low on. We’ll do a super quick inventory of our top ten ingredients first thing tomorrow. How does that sound?”

  Julia managed a smile. “Like a dream come true,” she said. “Don’t you agree, Harper?”

  Harper’s grin wobbled. “Yep. I’m onboard with whatever you guys think is best.”

  “Two aspirin and a Skinny Girl Margarita,” Kenzie said. “That’s what I think would be best considering how this night is starting off.”

  “C’mon, mother,” Becca said. “Be more chill. If these guys aren’t freaking out, why should you?”

  “Because I’ve been planning this party for the past four months,” Kenzie replied. “I switched from bowling to ice skating to a Michael Bublé concert to a cooking class. I settled on that because you’re always talking about all of the places that you and your friends go to eat. But it didn’t seem like any of you actually know how to cook.”

  Becca put both hands on her hips. “Laura can make brownies,” she said. “And Heather’s mom is from Sweden. She makes raggmunk, like, all the time.”

  Kenzie scowled. “Whatever the heck that is!”

  “Potato pancakes,” Harper volunteered. “More or less. My college roommate’s family lived in Stockholm.”

  Becca’s face brightened with a smile. “Aren’t they to die for?” she gushed. “Especially with fried pork and lingonberries?”

  Harper nodded. “I’m ready for some right now!”

  Kenzie waved one hand in the air. “Alright, we’re on a countdown,” she said to her daughter. “Your friends will be here in a half hour, sweetheart. Tell us what you’d like to do differently than what we’ve already planned for tonight.”

  “It’s not about the food,” Becca said. “We’re totally cool learning how to cook whatever.”

  “Then what is it?” Kenzie asked.

  Her daughter’s gaze shifted to me. “It’s you, Katie.”

  I smiled. “Can you be more specific?”

  Becca nodded. “Totally,” she said. “We want to hear about the cool stuff that you did as a private investigator.” She paused to glance anxiously at her mother. “And the things that you’ve done since you started helping the local cops here in town.”

  “Oh, sweetheart,” Kenzie said. “I don’t think we should impose on Katie like that.”

  Harper laughed. “Impose? She loves talking about
her glory days.”

  “I do?” I said, giving her a look.

  “A little bit,” Julia added, holding one hand toward Harper for a high five. “Especially while she cooks.”

  I laughed. “I do?”

  “For sure,” Julia said. “You may not even know it, but there have been plenty of times when you get in a groove with a batch of cookies or rolling out dough for a pie and just start reminiscing.”

  I couldn’t remember even one such instance, but I wasn’t about to question either of my friends in front of our client and her daughter.

  “That settles it,” Kenzie said. “If Katie doesn’t mind, she can regale us with a couple of her greatest hits while we all learn to make a few healthy dishes.”

  “That sounds perfect!” Becca said, giving her mother a hug. “Some healthy recipes and at least a couple that involve lots of butter and chocolate and icing!”

  CHAPTER 19

  Zack stood beside the portable presentation easel that I bought the day before to organize our wedding planning sessions. We were in my living room around nine the next evening, trying to decide which twenty-five friends and relatives could be invited to the wedding ceremony but excluded from the reception. When we’d combined our list with those prepared by our mothers, we had sixty more potential guests than we’d planned on. Zack had suggested eliminating a few from our roster before we asked our parents to do the same.

  “How about Arkin Pratt and Drexel Quill?” Zack said, pointing at the names with his Sharpie.

  I shrugged. “Aren’t those from your parents?”

  He laughed. “Haven’t a clue. I thought maybe they were friends of your family.”

  “I suppose it’s possible,” I said. “Although I’ve never heard either name.”

  “It sounds like a medical condition,” he joked. “Like, ‘I’m very sorry, Mr. Smith, but the only way we can treat your Arkin Pratt is by removing your Drexel Quill.”

  After we finally stopped giggling, I picked up my phone and dialed the familiar number in Florida.