by Norma Lehr
Abby waited for him to go on. He didn’t. Her heart thumped. “Pretty hard not to.” She waited a moment. “Okay. The woman and kids in the picture. Yours?”
“No. Not mine. My brother’s. He sent me the picture from Desert Storm. Asked me to watch out for his family until he got back to the states. Two months later, he came home in a flag-draped coffin.”
Dear God! Abby reached out and pressed his arm. Last night she’d jumped to conclusions without giving him a chance to explain “Oh, Blade. I’m so sorry. At times I can be such a fool. Can you ever forgive me?”
He didn’t reply. Neither one spoke.
After an interminable silence, he opened the manila folder Abby had retrieved from the back seat of his car. “This is what I was trying to show you before you rushed off in a huff.” His voice lowered. “You know, last night could have been our perfect night. Relaxing next to the tiki torches. Kissing under the stars, and who knows what else. Instead I spent the rest of the night alone by the pool slumped in a lounge chair trying to figure out what I’d done.”
Abby could see the disappointment in his dark eyes. Filled with regret, she reached for his hand.
Blade removed his hand while he opened the folder. “The driver of the dark blue sedan was Heath’s kid. Told his dad he’d left his cap in the car and asked for the keys. Without permission, he drove it from the casino parking area.”
Abby nodded, relieved to be back to the business at hand. “So he didn’t deliberately try to run me down.”
“I’m still working on it.”
“Why?”
“That part of the case isn’t closed yet.”
“You think Heath might have put him up to it?” She thought a moment. “Doesn’t make sense, does it?”
Blade shrugged.
Abby sighed. “What was he doing here with his son? I thought he came to have an affair with the wife of the guy who hired you?”
“Yeah, well, that too. Heath says he brought his kid for the golf tourney. Seems the kid is set to be another Tiger.”
Blade shoved the paper in the manila folder and put it back in his shoulder briefcase. “So I suppose you used the picks. What did you find out?”
“Nothing. Nada. Not a thing. I know I took a chance, but I had to. If Trish had left any clue behind at the dentist’s, I wanted to be the one to find it.”
He nodded. “You took a chance, all right. You realize you could’ve been caught and arrested. Then what? There’d be no reasoning with Dawson. He might be thick with your aunts, but I know that cop. His job comes first.”
Abby nodded. “I deserve the scold, but now I’ve got things to do.” She grabbed her bag.
Blade stopped her. “Can we meet later? How about dinner?”
Abby had already eaten big today at Logan’s, but she decided to let that information lie for a while. Blade didn’t particularly care for Stamm, and she chose not to stir up problems. She squinted and patted her tummy. “Had a big lunch. I only eat one full meal a day. But how about I drop by the motel later and bring snacks?”
Blade looked disappointed. “I came across this little romantic bistro downtown. Our kind of place.” He paused. “However,” his dark eyes brightened, “late snacks could be good.” He slowly turned and faced her with a lecherous grin.
She laughed and gently pressed two fingers against his lips.
“Forgot to mention. Renee’s flying in tomorrow. The three of us can go to lunch. Does that work for you?”
Blade raised an eyebrow. “Renee? Sure. Does she know Trish is missing?”
“My cell was off for a while so she called and spoke to Ginny. I’m thinking both aunts filled her in.” Before she left the Caliente tonight, Abby would be sure to explain to Blade why they would both be sleeping at Logan’s.
She brushed his cheek with a kiss. “Gotta go now. Swing by my aunt’s and check in. But first, I’m going into the station to get Trish’s keys and her briefcase.”
Dawson refused to let her have Trish’s things at first, but Abby kept at him. “My mother has important papers inside that case. There could be real estate closings in there that have to be attended to. I need to take them to Ginny’s so we can go through them. Who knows? We might find something that could lead us to her whereabouts. At this point, I would think you’d welcome all the help you can get.”
Without a word, only a warning glance, Dawson stood. He headed for the door and left her alone in the office. After a few minutes, he returned with the briefcase and the keys, which he dangled above her head. “I’ve gone through all this. If there’s anything in her papers that you and your aunts think might be a clue—I mean anything—you call me first. Hear?”
She nodded. Not first, but he’d be somewhere on the list after she chased down any significant lead pointing to Trish. She hurried down the hall and through the sliding door.
Blade’s car was gone.
After she reached the bungalow, Abby grabbed her purse and Trish’s keys and business bag from the seat of the GEM. When she went through her mother’s papers, she didn’t want her aunts looking over her shoulder and commenting. However, they might see something she didn’t. On her way up the walk, she hesitated before she reached the front door. With a disgruntled huff, she did a turn-around back to the little red car. Reaching over the seat, she grabbed the cloth-wrapped horseradish, sniffed, made a face and stuffed it back into her purse. Couldn’t make the lining smell any worse now. She’d clean everything inside the bag later.
Ginny greeted her at the door. “Well, well, look who’s back? We thought you forgot about us.” She turned to Dorie. “Isn’t that right?”
Dorie rushed to Abby’s side. “Did you bring good news? I mean about your mother. Has the packet I gave you performed its power and given you a message? Guided you? We haven’t heard a word here.” She fanned herself with a large envelope. “You caught us just before we have to leave.”
Abby shook her head. “Nope. No news about Trish. But I’ve got her business bag and keys with me. Picked them up from Dawson. I’ll let you know later if I find any clues as to where she might be.” She eyed both aunts, who were wearing stage makeup and hair falls. “You two going out?”
Without the use of her cane, Ginny stepped forward with a slight hobble. “We’re off to the theater to rehearse.”
“Both of you?”
“That’s right. I made another excuse to the director. Told him Trish was unexpectedly called away. He was disappointed, of course. But when I informed him Dorie was here from Branson and more than willing to take my place or Trish’s on Friday, he was elated.” She smiled broadly. “Since I can manage a short time without my cane,” she rubbed her hip, “still a bit wobbly of course, he insisted we sing a duet.”
Abby made a slow, thoughtful turn. “You’re both leaving now? I brought my mother’s papers so we could all go through them.”
Dorie angled her way past Ginny and placed a manicured hand on Abby’s shoulder. “Honey. Can you go through them while we’re gone?” She paused, patted her hair into place. “I’m doing this for Trish. You know the entertainer’s mantra. ‘The show must go on!’ ”
Abby’s shoulders slumped, and she grunted. Almost impossible to communicate with these two. “Before you leave, I need to talk to you about Atlantic City. It’s important. Whatever happened back then could be integral to finding Trish now.”
Ginny managed to inch her way in front of Dorie. “Why are you digging up the past? All her old history. It has nothing to do with Trish now.”
“Yeah, well, are you aware of current mob action? Has it occurred to you my mother could be writing in her memoir about witnessing a murder with a cover-up? Last night I spoke to her agent, the boss man’s young driver back then. He lives in California now and has warned Trish what could happen to her if she writes about anything that went down that night.”
Dorie slapped a hand over her mouth.
Ginny caught her breath. “Trish wouldn’t be that stupid.”
She glanced at her sister. “Would she?”
Dorie pursed her lips.
Ginny paled beneath her makeup. “What about us? Is she implicating us in her morbid life story? If so, that puts us in danger too.”
“Oh yeah. How so?” Abby plunked Trish’s things on the table and crossed her arms. “Because you two set her up with that mob boss? What the hell were you thinking? She was barely out of her teens.”
Ginny grabbed her cane and pounded it once on the tile floor. “How dare you sit in judgment over us? You have no idea what went on back then.”
“You’re right. I don’t. So why don’t you tell me your story? I’ve already heard his.”
Ginny waved her off. “Believe what you want. I’m not getting involved in something that took place years ago. If Trish has willfully put us in some kind of danger over this whole crazy affair, believe you me, in the final analysis she’ll have to deal with me.”
Dorie closed her eyes and pressed her hands together in prayer. “I’m calling on the goddess Calliope to guide Trish out of this horrible mess she’s gotten herself into. I believe Trish would never willfully say or do anything to harm us.”
Ginny snickered. “Dream on, sister. And you better pray, since you were the one who talked her into going out with that old gangster in the first place.” She leaned her cane against the side of the sofa and moved to open the front door. Grabbing hold of Dorie’s arm for support, she added, “Let’s go. The musical director’s waiting.”
Abby stood in front of the door, blocking them. “Dorie, how about switching cars? You don’t have far to go, and I need to drive the freeway out of town. I’ll have it back by dark.”
Dorie hesitated and looked to Ginny for a nod of approval before handing over the keys to her rental Lexus.
CHAPTER 14
Thirty-seven miles later, after climbing three thousand feet to the northern border of the Joshua Tree National Park, Abby reached Yucca Valley on Palms Hwy 101. She slowed the Lexus and cruised the town’s relatively short drag. After passing five real estate offices and at least fifteen antique stores—an impressive number for a small town—she located Trish’s office. Desert Valley Realty. She stopped at the curb and pulled on the handbrake.
Blade had come here yesterday and checked around, he’d told her. Said he talked to folks on the street, including a couple of storeowners who knew Trish. Everyone said they hadn’t seen her for days. He had left the high valley and drove back to the Springs without finding a clue as to her whereabouts.
She appreciated his concern. She really did. But she chose to check out the office herself. After all, she had Trish’s keys and briefcase now. Plus, she wanted to go inside and rummage around. Something Blade couldn’t have done. Gone inside. Or maybe he did. He hadn’t really said. She smiled and raised an eyebrow. His trip here and back to the Palms happened before she’d taken off with his lock picks.
She leaned across the seat and looked out the passenger side window at a small house with shingle siding and a tall, brick fireplace. In the sandy front yard, a few dozen large and small desert plants bloomed red and yellow. This charming place had undoubtedly been someone’s home before it had been renovated into a business office.
Under a green awning outside the front window, a wide poster with Trish’s smiling face beamed at passersby. LOOKING FOR A HOME? SEE TRISH MALONE.
Before going inside, Abby decided to call Dawson. Check in. Be friendly. Tell him she was here, then ask if he would tell her what poison killed the doctor. Abby had read poison was a woman’s murder weapon. Did that mean Dawson had put Trish at the top of his suspect list?
The woman cop at the front desk immediately put Abby through to Dawson’s office. He sounded grumpy and grilled her about why she was up in Yucca.
“Because I’m trying to find my mother. Her real estate office is here.”
“We know that.” He grunted. “All of that’s been checked out by Garret. We now have reason to believe Trish never left the Springs. Don’t ask. We’re working on it.”
“All right, I won’t. But you’ll call if you have any news, right?”
He didn’t reply.
She decided to jump right in. “Dawson. What poison killed the doctor?”
A pause. “Didn’t I already tell you? Thought I gave that information to you and Stamm when you were here this morning.”
Abby frowned. An oversight on his part, or deliberate? Impossible to tell over the phone. She could hear him rattling papers.
“Cause of death,” he harrumphed, “nicotine poisoning.”
Nicotine? She shook her head. Crazy! “I heard he was a heavy smoker, but this is scary. Can people poison themselves? Has it happened before?”
“Who told you he was a heavy smoker?”
“Stamm. He said the room was filled with smoke and he would have left earlier except he had an appointment later on with Trish.”
“Yeah. He mentioned his business with Trish.” A long pause. “How long have you known this radio guy?”
“Since Sunday. I met him outside the dentist’s office.”
Another pause. Abby drummed her fingers on the steering wheel.
“How long you gonna stay at your mother’s?”
“Dunno. Why?”
“Who knows you’re there?”
She was beginning to feel edgy. “Dawson. Why the third degree? I might spend the night here if my mother has a bed somewhere inside her office.” Or a sofa, she added silently.
“One more time.” His words were deliberate and slow. “Who knows you’re in Yucca?”
Abby unlocked the highly polished wood front door and stepped inside. The office had been expanded to a comfortable size by combining what had once been a living and dining area. After a quick look around, her eyes settled on her mother’s computer. On the wall above, a copper antique clock chimed four. She synchronized the time with her watch. She had told Dawson she might stay here tonight. Hadn’t been the plan, but if she found something of interest on the computer, it could get late and she might stay. The tan leather sofa on the far wall with a woven blue throw tossed across one arm would do. She called Logan and left a message that she wouldn’t be staying at his place tonight, and asked if he would please pick up Renee at the Palm Springs airport in the morning. She gave him the time, the flight number and a description. A tall, long-legged former dancer with auburn hair.
Wait, wait, wait. She tapped her head. She had promised Blade to go by his place later for a snack, and who knew what else? Earlier, sitting next to him in front of the police station, she had felt more than ready for ‘what else.’ Her pulse had raced when she pressed her fingers against his warm lips. Just thinking about it now took her back to the moment, and him, and the intoxicating fragrance of his cologne combined with his masculine aura. Her breath quickened. With a deep sigh, she studied the cold computer on the desk, made a face and tilted her head. Damn!
Abby located the flash drive in Trish’s briefcase and plugged it in. The files on Trish’s screen mostly concerned business deals. Abby scrolled down about ten pages. Wait! What’s this? ONLY YOU, CONSEC. CH4
Abby leaned back in the chair, tapped the keyboard to bring up the file, and folded her arms.
Chapter four of Trish’s tell-all novel was about her love affair with Sterling Stamm. Even though Logan had told Abby what he knew about his dad and Trish, nothing could compare with Trish’s account of her young, heartfelt love for Sterling. The next three pages described in detail the heartbreak that followed when he couldn’t, or wouldn’t, leave his wife.
As she read, Abby fought back tears. At the end of the chapter, she let the tears spill freely and wondered if her mother had cried while she wrote. The story of Sterling’s illness and death would probably be toward the end. She reached for a Kleenex, not sure she could deal right now with the final goodbye. She scrolled around. The first four chapters were the only ones Abby could locate.
Chapter one. BEGINNINGS. Leaving Kansas, headed
for Chicago.
Chapters two and three described the trio’s first album and subsequently their first guest TV appearance on the Lawrence Welk Show. Then big-time! The Malones appearing on the Ed Sullivan Show.
Abby recalled when she was a child enfolded in her grandma’s arms, watching her mother and aunts on TV. Grandma would smile proudly and whisper to Abby, “Aren’t they something?” But when her aunts came home to visit without Trish—which seemed to be most of the time—Grandma always blamed her daughters for not watching out for their younger sister. Which inevitably started the blame game that went on until they left again.
Abby stood and stretched. Mom, where are you?
To the left of the sofa, she opened an office closet. Not much in there. Two sweaters and a woman’s black suit jacket. She went down the hall to the bathroom, looking for clues. Anything. Nothing. The usual creams and lotions. Next, she peeked in then entered the one small bedroom. A queen size bed took up most of the space. Trish’s clothes hung neatly in the closet.
From the front office, the copper clock chimed six. Abby wandered back. Two hours here and not much progress had been made. As she shuffled through her mother’s file of business papers on the desk, the room suddenly filled with the most magnificent golden light shining in from the large front window. Abby stepped out on the porch and gazed in awe at the sky. The desert sunset had painted the Joshua trees black against swirls of deep red clouds floating low over a golden sky. The carbon blue mountain range to the west rose up regally to meet the gold. Abby sat down on the step and basked in the beauty. No wonder her mother chose this desert town to buy and sell homes. Who wouldn’t want to retire here? Reluctant to leave such splendor, she stood and attempted to still the sadness and turmoil that whirled around in her mind. She sucked in a deep breath, hoping to absorb some of the natural desert beauty before she trudged back inside.
She’d made her decision to stay the night and do a more thorough search on Trish’s computer. Must be a clue there, no matter how small. This is where Trish worked and lived. If Abby uncovered even the slightest arrow that could point her through this mysterious mess, she’d return to Palm Springs to continue her investigation there. Probably tomorrow. She punched in Blade’s number, but the call went to message. While she apologized profusely for canceling their meeting tonight, explaining why she felt she wasn’t done here yet, a car pulled up in front. The open rolling top of a VW convertible hummed close. The driver’s side opened and Blade got out. He reached over to the passenger seat and removed what looked like a large pastry box.