Watson Manor Eventually (Watson Manor Mystery Series Book 1)

by Ronald S. Craig

  The story spread quickly through Marina and when they stopped in a few days later to thank Stacy for her help and to tell her what happened, she had already heard.

  The mayor of Marina came out to their property twice in the week that followed, trying to talk them into receiving the key to the City at a ceremony she wanted to host in their honor. They thanked her for the thought, but with Cindy safely home, they just wanted to get back to Watson Manor.

  Chapter 20

  The last of the cement trucks had left and the foundation crew was busy smoothing the ground floor foundation surface of Watson Manor. It was a month prior that Cindy had first come into their lives and all three letters she had written to them were on the refrigerator door, just below the photo Jenny had taken when her family first arrived to take her home. Cindy lived in a small community north of San Jose, only two hours away from Marina. In her last letter she was hoping to come out and visit her new Uncle Charlie and Aunt Jenny after the New Year. She was doing well in counseling and Charlie and Jenny thanked the Lord daily for the difference a day could make.

  Jenny was watching the crew work and had to really hold back from joining Charlie guiding one of the machines over the surface of the concrete. She knew he wouldn't drive every nail into the future structure, but felt assurance in knowing he would be there during and after contracted help was there each day.

  "Hello, this is Jenny Watson," she said, retrieving her mobile phone.

  "Hello detective. My name is Margret Wentworth and I really need your help finding…"

  "I'm sorry, Margret," Jenny said, cutting her off. "I'm not a detective."

  "Oh, I read in the San Jose Mercury News, that you and your husband tracked down and found a young girl that had been abducted. They didn't give her name."

  "That's true, but my husband and I are not detectives. We're building a bed and breakfast in Marina, California."

  "I was so hoping you could help me. I've run out of options," she said sadly, sounding defeated.

  "Margret, who are you looking for?"

  "My daughter, Gracie. I have the worst feeling she is in trouble and needs some money."

  "You don't have any idea where she is?"

  "No I don't. Gracie left home in July, shortly after she graduated from high school. She turned 18 in April. I've not heard from her. Can you please help me find her?"

  "There are agencies with resources I don't have that specialize in finding people. Besides, Gracie is an adult now. What about her father?"

  "Her father, my husband James, is in hospice care and not expected to live much longer. Gracie doesn't know that and I really need to find her."

  "I'm really sorry to hear that, Margret, but like I said, we are not detectives and I don't know how I can help you."

  "I've tried those agencies; I was hoping to find someone that cared about people not just billable hours."

  "Margret, I truly hope you find her, goodbye." Jenny disconnecting the call. She slowly slipped her phone back into her pocket and found it difficult to let go of the desperation she heard in Margret's voice. She walked over to where Charlie was working on the foundation and when he saw the look on her face he shut off the machine and walked over to her.

  "What's that serious look about? Did we forget to put something under this concrete foundation?"

  "No, it's looking wonderful, Charlie. I just got the strangest call."

  "Another reporter asking about Cindy?"

  "It was a lady looking for her daughter. I don't know how she got my number but mentioned the newspaper article about Cindy, and wanted our help to find her daughter." Jenny's face still held the concern from the call.

  "Hopefully you told her this is not Watson Investigations."

  "Of course I did, but she sounded so desperately in need…"

  "Jenny, I don't like the sound of that." Charlie pulled her into his arms.

  "I know, I know. I'm an easy mark. We've been so blessed, Charlie. Maybe this is our way of giving back."

  "I do love that about you, your open arms to the world. I'm amazed that we don't have a dozen stray cats and dogs around that you're feeding. Listen, we have a week before Christmas, and the work here is almost done. I guess we have a few days. Where is this woman?"

  "I'll call her back," Jenny responded; a little too quickly, he thought.

  Margret Wentworth was very pleased when Jenny called her back and set up to meet her at her home in San Jose the following morning.

  When they entered Margret's upscale neighborhood, Charlie commented, "This is an expensive area. I'm surprised she couldn't find some professional help with finding her daughter."

  "It doesn't look like it was a lack of money. She did say she tried but didn't feel like they really cared or something like that."

  "Well we can see what she has to say and make a decision then."

  They were greeted at the door by a very attractive, tall woman in her mid-thirties. "Hello, you must be the Watsons?"

  "Yes," Charlie answered, "we're here to see Margret Wentworth."

  "That's me, won't you come in?" Margret stepped back as they walked through the door.

  The entry and living room had marble floors; the large tiles matched and were set tightly together to appear the floor was cut from a single piece. A large crystal chandelier hung over their heads from a ceiling 12 feet above them. It was a large, open room with large throw rugs defining separate areas within the room. She led them to an area that could have been featured in Better Homes and Gardens. A huge fire place stood seven feet tall and equally as wide, faced in dark mahogany wood with book shelves on both sides, which held classic leather-bound literature. Comfortable overstuffed leather chairs, each having a swing over the back floor lamp, were set on both sides of the fire place, facing a matching 15 foot couch defining the back boundary of this space that faced the fireplace. They sat on the couch across from Margret and Jenny turned to face her. "Excuse me for saying so, Margret," Jenny began, "but you look way too young to have an 18-year-old daughter?"

  "I married Gracie's father when she was 17."

  "We're really sorry to hear about your husband, James," Charlie offered.

  "Thank you. Can I get you something to drink?"

  "Coffee, if you have some, would be great." Charlie replied. Then, turning to Jenny asked, "Honey, do you want some?"

  "Please; just black for us, thank you." When Margret left the room headed for the kitchen, they both looked around the large room. Jenny turned to him. "This is really some place, maybe the lobby at Watson Manor?"

  "Yeah, and the dining room, bar and front desk too." Charlie replied following her eyes around the massive room.

  Margret returned and set the coffee on the table in front of them. When she was seated Jenny took the lead. "I'm still not sure how much help we can be in finding Gracie. Have you spoken to her friends?"

  "I've tried several times. I think they still see me as the outsider." Margret's smile faded and she handed a folder to Jenny. "We need to find her. Maybe you will have more luck talking to them."

  Jenny took the folder and opened it. There was a 5x7 photo on top that appeared to be Gracie's high school senior photo. Behind that she found a few more photos. She pulled one out with Gracie standing next to a man in his fifties and showed it to Margret. "She is a beautiful girl. Is this her father beside her?"

  "Yes, that's James. There is a list of her friends in there with phone numbers you can try."

  "Why did she leave home?" Charlie asked.

  "She wanted to spread her wings, I guess. James was beside himself when she left and didn't have a clue either."

  "You feel certain she left willingly, not taken?" Charlie asked.

  "Almost all of her clothes were gone along with her car. She also left a note."

  "Do you still have the note?" Charlie asked.

  "It was sent to James at his office, I never saw it. He just told me she said she loved us and needed to make her own way."

&n
bsp; "Was there a forbidden boyfriend?" Jenny asked.

  "Not that I'm aware of. She spent most of her time with her friends at their homes, maybe they know of someone."

  "It sounds like you two weren't very close?" Charlie asked.

  "I love her, Mr. Watson, and tried to be her friend. She always saw me as an intruder after I married her father."

  "Where's her mother?" Jenny asked.

  "Connie died when Gracie was 16."

  "That must have been rough on her. Can we speak to Mr. Wentworth?" Charlie asked.

  "He slips in and out of consciousness at this point, I'm sorry to say. I will sit and talk with him for hours and I don't even know if he is aware I'm there."

  "What can you tell us about Gracie? Was she wild, a good or poor student…smart?" Jenny asked.

  "She was a very good student; kind of reserved I'd say, though. I expected her to go to college. Her leaving took us all by surprise and that's why I want to make sure she is ok."

  "Can we look at her bedroom? Get a feel for her and what she liked?" Jenny asked.

  Margret got very quiet and her eyes got moist. "It was so painful to see James sitting in her room. I had it redone as a guest room two months ago. Excuse me a minute." She stood quickly and left the room. A few moments later she returned with a box she put on the table then sat down again. "Here are the things she had in her room. As I said, she took most of her clothes and things."

  "You mentioned she might need money. Did she have any when she left?" Jenny asked.

  "Almost four thousand in her savings account. She closed that account when she left."

  "Did she drink, use drugs?" Charlie asked.

  "I never saw any indication. She was reserved, as I said, not the party girl type."

  "If we can get any indication from her friends where she might be we'll let you know. Otherwise we'll bring this box and file back," Charlie told her.

  Margret handed him a check for five hundred dollars and said, "That's for today, and three hundred a day if you find some leads. There's $5,000 in it for you, when you find her."

  Charlie stood, took the check from her and said, "If we don't get anything from her friends I'll bring this back too." Jenny stood and looked around the room slowly before she headed for the door.

  Margret walked them out. "Anything you need, call. I hope you can find her."

  "We'll try," Jenny said, shaking Margret's hand at the door. Headed back to his truck after the front door had closed, Jenny looked at Charlie. "Did you see one photo of Gracie in that room?"

  "No." He put the box in the back seat of his crew cab pickup. "I didn't feel any love or warmth in that room either."

  They drove through a fast food restaurant and took their lunch to a picnic table in a park close by. Jenny wanted to go through the box before calling anyone on the list they had been given, to get a better feel of Gracie. Jenny took a bite of her cheese burger and pulled two high school yearbooks out of the box. "These are her sophomore and junior yearbooks, is her senior book in there, Charlie?"

  "No more yearbooks in the box, she must have wanted that one and took it with her." Charlie looked back in the box again and pulled out an envelope stuffed with paycheck stubs. He removed one. "Looks like she worked at a Sizzler restaurant while in school."

  "Sounds like we have a place for dinner then." Jenny closed the yearbooks. "She looks like a good kid to me. She was in the debate club, honor roll and class Vice President in her junior year."

  "Are any of the people who signed those books on the list Margret gave us?"

  "There's a thought. I got more than just your good looks when I married you." Jenny smiled and pulled the list out of the folder.

  "We just don't have the time to put that extensive list together," he told her.

  Jenny looked at him and smiled. She tore a corner off of the list they'd been given and handing it to him. "Oh yea, see if you can fill this up with my new benefit package as Mrs. Watson." They both laughed. "Clearly Stef is her best friend and there's a Stefanie King on the list. There's a Mandy that may have also worked with her. I'm getting that from a comment in the year book, 'cleanup at the salad bar, all in a day's work'."

  "The only things left in the box are some college brochures for a few state universities in California; Santa Barbara, Irvine and Fullerton… and a pendent that says 'Go 49ers on it'."

  "The San Francisco 49ers?" Jenny asked.

  "Could be, but the football team at Long Beach State is also the 49ers. I did live there for a while, you may recall."

  "Let's call Stefanie King and see if she has any information for us."

  "I wouldn't mention Margret's name yet. I don't think her name opens doors at this point." Jenny reached for her phone and dialed the number for Stefanie King.

  "Hello?" a woman answered.

  "Hello, Mrs. King, is Stephanie home?"

  "No, she's away at school. Who is this?"

  "My name is Jenny Watson and I'm trying to locate Gracie Wentworth. I was given your daughter's name as a possible way to locate her."

  "I know Gracie, but haven't seen her for some time now. What's this about? And who gave you my number?"

  "It's about her father, James, and I got your number from her mother."

  "Gracie's mother died two years ago! Connie was a very dear friend of mine. Why don't you leave Gracie alone, hasn't she been through enough!" Then the phone went dead.

  Jenny turned to Charlie. "You've got a point. Gracie's step mothers name doesn't grease any wheels."

  "Oh, I heard the warm reception from over here. I think we saved you a black eye by not knocking on her door. Give me Mandy Nelson's phone number and let's try a different approach."

  "Hi," a young woman answered.

  "Hello, is this Mandy Nelson?"

  "Yes."

  "I have your name on a reference list. Do you know Gracie Wentworth?"

  "Yes, we're friends, and worked together."

  "At Sizzler, I know. I have a check in my hand for five hundred dollars with Ms. Wentworth's name on it. Do you have an address for Gracie so I can send this check to her?"

  "Gracie doesn't work there anymore."

  "Yes we know that. Going through the records we found she earned this money, but it slipped through the cracks and I am trying to get it to her. We know she isn't living with her parents at this time."

  "I don't know where she is. I haven't seen her for almost six months. I know her and Stef, Stefanie King, always talked about going to college together."

  "Mandy, do you recall the college they talked about?"

  "All I remember is that they always talked about warm Southern California beaches."

  "Thank you, Mandy, for your help. Oh one more thing; do you know if Gracie had a boyfriend we might call?" Charlie asked her.

  "Tom Rey, in her junior year, but they didn't date as seniors. She was really focused on getting good grades, you know always too busy studying to go out and have fun."

  "Thank you, Mandy." Charlie disconnecting the call. "Jenny, I think it's important we find Gracie to tell her about her father, but there are cards here we haven't seen yet."

  "I know what you mean. I feel the same way. Did we learn anything from Mandy?"

  "She doesn't have anything specific, only that Gracie and Stefanie talked about college and warm Southern California beaches. What's the last name on the list?"

  "Steve Crown, I'll call this time." When she dialed her phone, Charlie pulled the yearbook over and searched for Steve. He was in her junior class but hadn't written in her yearbook.

  He turned to Jenny as she was disconnecting her phone and she said, "Steve is at West Point. His mother knows Gracie, from the debate club meetings, but Steve had a girl friend his senior year. She was really surprised when I mentioned James Wentworth was in hospice care. She said he looked really healthy at the graduation ceremony in June."

  "Did you mention Margret?"

  "She doesn't know her, only that she and Gracie h
ad a strained relationship."

  "I don't know how much we can determine by that," Charlie said. "Losing her mother and another woman moves in so soon afterwards, maybe it's a common point of friction."

  "There's no doubt Margret wants to find her and make sure she's OK."

  Charlie picked up his phone and dialed. After he heard her greeting, he said, "Hello Margret, this is Charlie. We've not gotten anything positive at this point but Jenny and I are going to talk to the manager at Sizzler tonight. What kind of car does Gracie have?"

  "A new white Audi convertible we gave her on her 18th birthday."

  Charlie took a minute to absorb that. He knew the Wentworth's weren't exactly collecting unemployment checks but he was still surprised. "You mentioned you were trying to give Gracie some money to help her out?"

  "Yes, she has a trust fund. At 18-1/2 years-old, which she is now, she can sign a release and a check will be sent directly to her."

  "Did Gracie know about this fund? How much are we talking about?"

  "No she doesn't. I'm sure the four thousand she had won't take her very far. The fund is one hundred and fifty thousand dollars, Charlie. That’s why it's so important that we find her."

  "And to learn about her father's medical condition, right?" Charlie asked.

  After a moments silence. "Yes, of course. We don't know how long he will hang on. Also, she can have the money wired to a bank right away if you find her. It might be better if I was the one to tell her about her father. She should not hear that news from a stranger."

  "OK, I got it. I'll call you in a couple of days, if we have any luck." Jenny saw confusion all over his face and gave him a minute to sort it out.

  "So what was that all about?"

  "We have a few hours before dinner, let's find our computers at the Cambrian Library again and see who James Wentworth is this time."

  "I hope they won't want to charge us rent, if we keep this up."

  He told her about the conversation with Margret on the way to the library. Jenny understood his confusion and they located the computers in the back. Jenny sat down and searched James Wentworth. The screen quickly filled with articles about him in the San Jose Mercury News. Seated side-by-side, they read through a dozen stories and learned James Wentworth was the CEO and founder of Wentworth Software Inc, a company worth 25 million dollars. He had been rushed to the hospital on September 12th and there was no diagnosis for his rapid decline in health. As his condition continued to decline, he was moved to hospice care.