Chihuahua Confidential
Page 20
I found it odd that he wasn’t thinking of himself, but maybe he was the kind of guy who always thought of other people first.
“Is Fuzzy particularly attached to Tammy?”
“Yes, I’m more of a cat person. But Tammy had always wanted a dog. As soon as we signed the papers, she went right out to the shelter and came home with that mutt.” He took a sip of his lemonade. “I can’t believe she could just walk away from her. And all this.” He waved his hand at the yard. It certainly looked like a little bit of paradise.
“So how long have you lived here?”
“Five years.”
I mentally computed that. They bought just as prices for houses were still going up, so they were probably watching in dismay as prices fell.
“And how long have you been married?”
“Our anniversary is June twenty-fifth. Next week. Seven years of married bliss.” He took a sip of his tea and looked out the rain-smeared window at the garden.
“Do not speak, Geri,” said Pepe. “That is good interviewing technique.”
Actually, I wasn’t going to speak anyway since I had just helped myself to one of the giant sugar cookies Mark had placed on the table and my mouth was full. The cookies looked and tasted like they were homemade. Was Mark baking as well as cleaning to compensate for his loss?
“I know what you’re thinking. That’s what the police said. The seven-year itch. She got tired of being married and ran off. But, believe me, there was nothing wrong with our marriage. I mean, we had our share of problems, but we were working on those.”
“Ask about the problems,” Pepe suggested.
“If you don’t mind my asking, what were the problems?”
“Well, of course, that’s why you’re here,” he said. He leaned forward and looked at me with those worried brown eyes. “We wanted children, but we couldn’t get pregnant. No matter what we tried, and, believe me, we tried everything. Then, finally, just when we gave up, Tammy got pregnant. She was so excited.”
He paused, rubbed at his eyes. “She had a miscarriage in the fifth month. It was terrible. She couldn’t get over it. That’s when those people got a hold of her.”
“The Dogawandans?” I asked.
“Yes, she attended a seminar, and they filled her head with nonsense. Said it was all meant to be. The baby was not gone but living in a different dimension. And she could be there, too, if she divested herself of all attachments. She was even talking about getting rid of Fuzzy. She went away for a weeklong retreat at their lodge, which is in the mountains somewhere near Cle Elum, and she never came back.”
“How long ago was that?” I asked.
Mark sighed. “Almost a month ago.”
“And the police aren’t concerned?” I found that hard to believe.
“No. Not after I showed them the note.”
“What note?”
He set down his cup, reached into the back pocket of his jeans, and pulled out a worn wallet. He opened it and pried out a piece of much-folded paper. He handed it to me without comment and watched as I unfolded it, carefully, because it had been folded and unfolded so many times it was about to fall apart. The message was written on pale green, lined paper, the kind you find in steno notebooks, like the one I carry for my case notes.
“Read it out loud, Geri!” ordered Pepe.
So I did. It read:
I’m not coming home.
Don’t try to make me.
This is the last time you will hear from me.
I am dead to you from this point forward.
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Copyright © 2013 by Waverly Curtis
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ISBN: 978-0-7582-7496-0
Notes
1 A Barking Detective Mystery