by Norma Lehr
When they reached the car, all the windows were rolled up.
Logan shaded his eyes and looked in. “Is this her car?”
“I think so.” Her chin practically rested on his shoulder. “Yes! There’s her big brown bag on the passenger side. She always carries important work papers with her.” Abby tried the door and it opened. Surprised, she stared up at Logan. “The keys are still in the ignition. Why would she leave her bag in an unlocked car?”
Logan shrugged. “You know her better than me.”
“That’s just it. She wouldn’t.”
“With everything that’s happened—I mean the doctor’s death—maybe she just forgot.”
Abby shook her head hard. “Believe me. Trish has forgotten a lot of important things in her life, but her real estate business is top priority.” Abby recalled how Trish never seemed to care a dip about her family when she was drinking but amazingly always kept track of her business.
“So, what do you want to do? Search the mall? Wait here till she comes back?”
Abby took out her smartphone and speed dialed her aunt. Damn. Dead battery or dead zone. “Logan, could you ring Ginny and find out if Trish has called?”
He handed Abby the phone. “I think it would work better if you talked to her.”
It didn’t, however. Still no word from Trish. Abby explained where she was and with whom, then winced as one minute Ginny lashed out about how inconsiderate Trish was then sounded genuinely worried about her the next.
“Where the devil is she?” Ginny shouted into the phone. “I tried her office in Yucca Valley four times and got the answering machine. The director at The Follies called and wants to know why she wasn’t at rehearsal today. I covered for her with some crazy excuse about a toothache, but they won’t wait forever.” Long pause. “Grab her bag. Look inside.”
Abby opened the bag, searched, and found Trish’s wallet stuffed between two notebooks. Her identification and credit cards were in place and more than a hundred dollars in twenties was stuffed in the unzipped compartment.
“Go to the police. Now,” Ginny ordered. “You know who to ask for. My old buddy, Ted Dawson. The cop who was here the other day looking for her. He’ll help you. And, Abby … get back to me soon.”
Abby grabbed the brown bag and threw it over her shoulder. In one swift move, she pulled the keys from the ignition and locked the car. She could feel her foot throb. Blood had coagulated on her ankle. A good sign. The bandage would have to wait.
The two headed for the silver Corvette. Abby hung back, jiggled Trish’s keys and wondered if she should open the Camry’s trunk. Her heart skipped a beat. She squinted, shook her head and picked up her pace. “Hurry, Logan.” Her nerves were frazzled. “I’ve gotta see a cop about a missing mother.”
At the station, Ted Dawson ran his index finger over his thick salt and pepper mustache. “Did you check the trunk?”
Abby looked at Logan. He shrugged and shook his head.
“Well, why the hell not?” Ted reached across his cluttered desk to a drawer for his gun. He stood, straightened and adjusted his belt beneath his barrel belly. He towered over both Abby and Logan. “Let’s go back and check out the car.” He raked his burly fingers through his graying hair. “Had a bad feeling about this whole affair from the start. The ME called this morning and said the doctor may not have died from natural causes.” He stared at Logan. “What do you make of that?”
“Why ask me?”
“Because you were there, fella, when the doctor collapsed. You’re a witness. If the doctor’s death wasn’t natural, you’re a person of interest. Got a problem with that?”
“No, no.” Logan held up his hands. “Then it wasn’t a heart attack or a stroke?”
Ted shook his head. “I told you what the ME said. Now, let’s get going. Show me the car.”
Abby and Logan trailed down the hall after Dawson. When they reached the glass sliding door to the outside, Blade walked in.
Dawson took a step back and smirked. “Well, well, look what the cat dragged in. What’re you doing in the Springs? Long time no see.”
Blade patted Dawson’s shoulder, walked past him, and strode over to Abby. “Did Trish show up?”
Abby shook her head.
“No,” Logan answered, “but we found her abandoned car at a mall.”
Blade lifted his chin and gave Logan the once-over. “And you are?”
Abby found her voice. “A friend of Trish’s. One of the poker players from last Friday.” She squinted. “Where’ve you been?”
“Yeah, yeah, let’s hold up on the chatter.” Dawson walked through the door, leaving the other three behind. Outside, he called back over his shoulder. “You three can chitchat later. Let’s get on with this.”
Blade caught up with Dawson. “I’m here working a case. Could be tied in to the poker game. Let’s talk.”
“Yeah? Well it’s good to see you, Blade. Been a while. We’ll get a beer later and talk over old times.”
“You’re on,” Blade said. He stepped back and kept stride with Abby. “I’ve been trying to call you. What’s with your cell?”
“Not working,” Logan said. “She had to use mine to call her aunt.”
Blade gave Logan a look that said, Did anyone ask you? “You come here with him?” Blade used his thumb as a pointer.
“Yes. We came together. Let’s concentrate on finding my mother, okay?”
On the way to the mall, Logan and Abby sat in the back of the patrol car while Blade slid in front with Dawson. Logan turned to Abby. “Is this Blade guy a cop?”
“A PI. And a friend. He invited me here for a few days.”
“Oh, ho. Hence the wary looks. He has the persona of a tough guy, so set him straight. I don’t want him on my case.”
Abby waved him off. “He always gives that impression. Thinks he’s Bogart reincarnated.” She slumped in her seat and gazed out the window. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt for Blade to wonder about her and other men. At times he seemed complacent about her social life. Probably figured there were no males except him. She sighed deeply. If that’s what he thought, he was right. She snapped out of her reverie as they pulled into the mall parking lot.
Logan climbed from the backseat and headed for Dawson. “We didn’t tell you about the black car.” He rummaged through his pants pocket and brought out the paper with the partial license plate number.
Blade looked over Logan’s shoulder. Abby watched as Blade copied the plate numbers on a card.
Abby caught up. “Not now, Logan. Don’t complicate things. Let’s check Trish’s car first.”
Blade stepped back and took her elbow. “What black car?” He stared at Logan. “What’re you talking about?”
Without so much as a glance Abby’s way, Logan filled Blade in on the near hit and run earlier. “I thought it was intentional. Abby thinks not. The driver had to have seen her. There were no other cars coming in either direction.” He glanced at Abby’s foot. “Luckily it was only her ankle that got scraped.”
Blade stiffened. “Who was driving? Man or woman?”
“Couldn’t tell. Tinted windows. Makes it more premeditated in my book.”
Blade turned to Abby. “Did you see anyone?”
“No, no, and no. Please, guys, let it go for now. We’ll tell Dawson about it after he figures out what’s going on here.” She caught up with Dawson, who was busy pulling on rubber gloves. He sorted through a case of police tools. “Wait,” she said. “You don’t need tools. I have the keys, but I can’t stand here while you open it.” She handed him the key ring. “If you find ….” Her voice broke.
Dawson wiped his wrinkled brow with the back of his arm. “Okay. Go on back to the patrol car. I’ll come and tell you what I find.”
By now, the others had caught up with Dawson and hovered around the trunk like reluctant pallbearers. Abby pushed past them, hiding her frightened tears. If her mother’s body was in there … how would she ever break the news to he
r aunt?”
Blade slid into the backseat beside her. “Trunk’s empty, except for a pair of Nikes and a scruffy gym bag.” He made a face. “Plus an open box of black plastic bags. Dawson’s collecting everything and taking it back to the station.” He put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. “We checked around. None of the shop owners in the strip have seen her. This means Trish is out there someplace. We’ll find her.”
Abby looked at him. “Where is ‘someplace’? Where do we start?”
“I’ve obtained some pertinent info that might help us. I wanted to run it by you first. Come on.” He slid from Dawson’s car and helped Abby step out on her sore foot. Taking her arm, he guided her toward Starbucks. “Let’s have coffee and I’ll tell you what I know.” He waved back over his shoulder at Dawson and pointed to Starbucks.
After they ordered and were seated, Blade spoke, “I hated leaving you at the ball the other night, but duty called. When the guy I’d been hired to tail answered his cell and left his glamorous partner behind at the dance to make a quick exit, I had to keep him in sight while we both picked up our cars from valet parking. When he reached the highway I followed, but not too close. Didn’t want to be spotted. My job here in desert town is to find out where this guy was staying, and take photos of the client’s wife if she joined him in his room.”
Abby set her cup down. “So, did you? Where’s he staying?”
“Hold on. You’re jumping ahead here.” Blade blew on his coffee and sipped. “When we reached the highway, I kept a good distance behind his upscale black car and made a point of memorizing the license number. Strange though. The wife hustler didn’t seem to be in any kind of a hurry. Fifteen minutes earlier he darted from the dance floor like the place was on fire. Next he was cruising like a tourist.” He eyed Abby’s cup. “Can I get you a refill?”
She shook her head. “No. No, I’m fine. Please go on.”
“When we reached downtown Palm Springs, I followed him into the Casino hotel parking area and kept my distance. I parked my VW and pointed it the opposite way so I could watch my subject through the rearview mirrors. When Romeo didn’t emerge from his vehicle, I waited and watched. The guy stayed put with his cellphone glued to his ear. I loosened my tie, sucked in a deep breath, relaxed against the seat and waited.
“He finally opened his door and got out. I counted to fifteen, kept my distance, and followed him into the Spa Resort Casino. Once inside, I couldn’t spot him.” Blade hunched his shoulders. “Scanned the lobby twice but no luck. So I crossed over to the bar and ordered a beer. I decided to wait it out until the guy showed. Ten minutes later, I got confronted.”
“ ‘Okay snooper,’ he demanded. ‘Why’re you tailing me?’ ”
Abby sucked in a breath. “You got spotted.”
“Right. So I put on my innocent face and insisted he’d made a mistake but he wasn’t buying. He plopped down on the stool next to me.
“ ‘Yeah well,’ he barked, ‘you can’t put one over on an old pro from Philly. I know you’re on my heels.’
“With that, he rubbed his chin and ordered drinks for both of us.” Blade leaned over and glanced out Starbuck’s window. “Dawson’s still out by your mom’s car taking notes. We should probably join him.”
Abby grabbed his hand. “No, you don’t. You said this might be info about Trish. Stay here until you finish telling what happened.”
Blade nodded. “Okay, okay. But I’ll hurry. One drink led to two more before he admitted driving to the Palms to meet the client’s wife and escort her to the ball.
“The guy shrugged and said, ‘That’s as far as it goes, man. She’s staying with friends until she drives back home. Her old man wouldn’t take her to the ball.’ He snorted. ‘So what did he expect? You tell him if he’s got a beef, I’ll be waiting for him.’ ”
Abby waited. “So now what? How does this tie in? Is your job here finished?”
“Not quite. It all sounded innocent enough. If the guy was on the level, he’d let his client’s wife sort it out. So I decided to call the husband, send photos, and return my party suit. But not before I got paid. The Philly guy hung around. Figured he must like me or else he was drunk.”
Blade leaned across the table. “Now listen up. This is the important part. Before another round was ordered, he started grumbling about a poker game he’d attended the night before where one of the players keeled over. Dead!”
Trish’s game?
“I put down my beer, ordered black coffee, sobered up and listened to the guy’s story. Crazy coincidence? You bet. And you’ll find this hard to swallow. He’s your mother’s literary agent.” Blade squinted. “You do know she’s writing her memoir?”
Abby nodded slowly. “She mentioned it. I didn’t take much notice at the time.”
“Well, she is. Seems back in the day she was involved with some big shot in the mob. Her agent says that if she includes that part of her life in the book, some mobsters aren’t going to be too happy.”
Abby closed her eyes. Mobsters. Good grief. No. Bad grief! Her mother was more trouble than her teenage twins ever were. What was it brought her to Palm Springs in the first place? Not specifically to see her mother on stage. Or to visit with family. She came here to get away from the stress and responsibility of her store for a couple of days. Maybe, just maybe enjoy a little romance with Blade at the Caliente. Now all of this was blowing up in her face. Much as she wanted to be free of her mother and her problems, somehow she always got drawn in. Here she was plunk in the middle of a missing person case and the one missing happened to be Trish. Who might or might not have been witness to a poker party murder of a prominent surgeon. And maybe way back, she was a player with the mob.
The thought of facing Ginny with all of this information seemed overwhelming. She swallowed hard. “Blade, would you mind coming with me to my aunt’s place to help me explain what’s been happening here?”
CHAPTER 7
Ginny was standing at the bungalow entryway holding open the screen door when Abby drove up to the curb in her aunt’s red GEM. Blade pulled in behind her and got out of the VW. Abby rushed up the walkway and hurriedly apologized to her aunt. “I’m sorry about the time. I think we can still make it to your therapy by four. We’ve got ten minutes.” She took a deep breath and felt her shoulders slump. “Things got out of hand at the mall.”
“Forget it.” Ginny looked worried. “I cancelled for today. It’s okay. I knew I wouldn’t be able to concentrate on the moves. Come here.” She held out her arms and Abby rushed in. “I’m getting scared now,” she whispered hoarsely. “Trish would never leave her business papers unattended.” She rubbed the back of Abby’s hair. “Her keys? Left in her car? Unheard of. My sister’s too organized. In the past, even at her worst, that didn’t happen.” The two women stood holding each other until Blade approached.
Clearing his throat, he said, “I need to get going. Taking off for Yucca Valley. Got business there. I’ll be back this evening. You two gonna be okay?”
Ginny let go of Abby and straightened. “Apparently you have no idea who you’re talking to. We Malones have held it together for more years than you’d care to know. Isn’t that right, Abby?” She took a step back into the shadow of her bungalow and lifted her chin. “Come along, Niece, we’ve got family business to take care of.”
He shrugged and turned to leave.
Ginny frowned. “No need to be concerned about us, Blade Garret.”
Abby patted Ginny’s arm and whispered, “He’s doing the best he can to help.” She followed Blade back to the car. “My aunt’s more than a little upset. She’s shaking. She needs your help. I know she does. And you know how much your help means to me.” She put her hand on his shoulder and gave him an appreciative squeeze. “Are you off to see my mother’s agent? Is that why you’re driving to Yucca Valley?”
He opened the car door. “Sit for a minute, Abby. We need to talk.”
She slid in, leaving the car door op
en. Blade went around to the driver’s side. “Is it too hot in here?”
“No. I didn’t close the door because I don’t want Ginny to think I’m leaving. My place is here with her right now. I’ll keep in touch with Chief Dawson. Otherwise, I’d be asking you to take me along.”
Blade leaned back and folded his arms. “You fill Ginny in on everything we know. I need to get to Trish’s agent. Find out some things about your mother’s past that might help us locate her.” He faced Abby. “How much do you know about any mob connections she may have had?”
Abby shrugged and stared out the windshield. The golden mountains shimmered in the late afternoon sun. With this natural beauty all around, it was hard to focus on the darkness. The shadow that might be surrounding her mother. “Nothing. I know nothing.” She shook her head hard. “This is the first I’ve heard of it. When I go inside, I’ll try to find out what Ginny knows.”
“Abby. The car. The one that tried to mow you down. The one your friend, the radio guy, mentioned ….”
Abby blinked. “What about it?”
“There could be a connection.”
“You think the wild driver, probably some reckless kid, is connected to the mob and he purposely tried to run me down because of my mother?” She laughed incredulously. “That’s really far out there, Blade.” She stared at him.
He didn’t seem to find it amusing. “Kid? Why a kid? You said he. Did you get a look at the driver?”
“Well, no. I’m just surmising.”
“Investigators don’t surmise. We look at the facts, ma’am. That run-down incident is a fact whether you want to believe it or not. Now I need you to find out if you can get in touch with the woman who witnessed your spill. I understand she wrote the license number on her palm. I’ll tell Dawson what happened. Describe the woman. Stamm has the number on paper. Maybe he’ll be able to help with this one.” He narrowed his eyes. “What is Stamm to you, anyway? An old flame?”
Abby shook her head and waved him off. “That’s a whole other story. I’ll tell you later. Let’s concentrate on Trish.”