The Wolfe Widow (A Book Collector Mystery)

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The Wolfe Widow (A Book Collector Mystery) Page 20

by Victoria Abbott


  “What?”

  “You know.” She glanced at the beautiful children who shared her green eyes.

  “I don’t know. Please tell me so I don’t put my foot in it when I’m talking to them. I really like them.”

  “She’s always preparing for visits that never happen. They’ve a boy and a girl, both high flyers. Both married. No one made it for Thanksgiving last year. Or Christmas. They just let them think that they’ll make it this time and then something ‘comes up.’ Last year Tom and Mindy invited us at the last minute because in the end they had an empty house. Nice for us, but it’s heartbreaking.” Her voice cracked. “I can’t imagine that as a parent.”

  “I’m sad to hear it. And I’m sorry to trouble you with these photos. Do you recognize these men?”

  I pulled out the photos and slid them on the hall console, even as she began to protest.

  Audra barely glanced at the photos. “No.” She shook her head a little too emphatically. “I’ve never seen them.”

  “Sure they weren’t in the truck that hit me?”

  “Yes.”

  Her knuckles were white as she gripped the table edge. She wasn’t good at lying. “Good luck with your search. I have to get back to the kids now.”

  I headed for the door and she was right behind me, shutting the door so fast it almost clipped my butt. It didn’t matter. Her reaction confirmed it. She’d seen the Rileys in that truck. She was too scared to admit it. She feared for her children and she knew these men were capable of killing. I couldn’t blame her.

  Whatever was going on between the Rileys and Muriel, it was dangerous.

  * * *

  AFTER MY VISIT to Audra, I sat in my car thinking for a bit before I sent a text message to Tyler Dekker.

  If anything happens 2 me, check out Muriel Delgado + Det Jack Jones

  Audra Bennacke is lying. She’s scared.

  Retired teacher Mr. Murphy knows something–ask Flo at George’s.

  Wish U were here.

  I added, Miss U

  That was true. His absence had made my heart grow fonder, as inconvenient as that was. Still, I couldn’t count on him to solve the crime against me. I’d count on myself and Uncle Kev and possibly Cherie; time would tell. My role model, Archie Goodwin, wouldn’t allow a lack of facts to dampen his spirits. That would be my approach.

  I had barely sent the text to Smiley when my cell phone rang. The Hudson Café showed up on the screen. Lainie’s call reinforced what I already knew: The Rileys were like unstable bombs.

  “I don’t want to alarm you,” she said, somewhat breathlessly. “But I talked to my friend about those landscapers, the Rileys. They’re a father and son. She said to tell you to steer clear. She said she found them very intimidating and became frightened in the end. They did a shoddy job and she’s probably going to have to pay to get it redone. She was terrified to take action against them. The father threatened her and she took it seriously. They’re a couple of thugs. Please be careful and let the police handle it, Jordan.”

  I finally got a chance to break into the conversation to thank her.

  “I appreciate this, Lainie. Don’t worry. I won’t confront them.”

  “Perhaps you shouldn’t be going around asking questions about them. You wouldn’t want them to get wind of it.”

  “You’re right. I don’t want them to get wind of it. They’ve already tried to kill me.”

  “Will you stay away from them?”

  “Yup. Thanks so much for this.” I decided not to mention that Uncle Kev, one of the least careful people on the planet, was at the moment nosing around Bridge Street at George’s Diner and would be asking about them.

  “I’ll see if I can learn more about them. I have no connection to them, so that’s probably a bit safer.”

  “Thanks. I’m going in a different direction anyway. I’ve got a line on some other stuff.”

  “Other stuff?”

  “It’s ancient history, well before your time here in Harrison Falls.”

  “Please try to be careful. And remember that I am just a phone call away.”

  I was still smiling before I hung up. I was glad to have Lainie in my corner. At least I had a friend. Poor Vera couldn’t even say that. I’d thought of myself as her friend, and where had that gotten me? Uncle Kev could be viewed as a friend, but you couldn’t count on him to succeed in helping. Eddie, the now-retired postal carrier, was devoted to her, but he was in Florida. I would have been happier with Eddie around. He was timid, but he was intelligent and he cared. How long was that cruise going to last? I wasn’t even sure when it had started. Eddie ate like a bird and was allergic to alcohol, so what kind of time would he have been having on a cruise? He’d be missing Vera. Eddie had been besotted with her since school. Vera had only gone to school in Harrison Falls for a year. The chances were very good that Eddie would know about any relationship, positive or negative, that Vera had with Muriel. Maybe he’d even know what hold Muriel had over Vera.

  Was there a way to reach Eddie?

  There had to be.

  Eddie was always lurking about Van Alst House. Vera wouldn’t have had his telephone number, if he even had a cell phone. There was no need. Kev and Eddie had mainly ignored each other in the quest for Vera’s affections, so he most likely wouldn’t have it either.

  Perhaps the signora would. Somehow they’d managed to communicate, and Eddie often hung around the kitchen with her.

  I’d never seen the signora use a telephone, but Eddie used to pick up things at the grocery store for her. Did she call him?

  Worth asking.

  Kev would be the person to try to get the phone number out of the signora.

  As I drove home, happy with this new line of inquiry, I was passed by an ambulance and two fire trucks heading along the river and out of town. A pair of police cars followed, roof lights flashing and sirens wailing.

  At least they were all heading away from George’s Diner, where I knew Uncle Kev could inadvertently do a lot of damage.

  Unfortunately, two minutes later, another fire truck thundered past me heading in the direction of Bridge Street, raising the worry quotient.

  In my family we have a little saying: Where there’s smoke, there’s Kevin.

  * * *

  “NOT MY FAULT,” Kev said. “I was just trying to blend in by helping in the kitchen. Some of that cooking oil has a real low flashpoint.”

  I rubbed my temples.

  Kev burbled on. “Anyway they got it out soon enough, although Flo is a bit upset with me and she won’t be talking too much.”

  “Oh great. So a waste of time and a threat to life and limb.”

  “What? It wasn’t a waste. I got a great lunch there. Big fries, hand cut. Flo said it was on the house.”

  “But the information, no go?”

  “It was a go.”

  “Just tell me,” I snapped. I try to be gentle with Kev because he’s a delicate flower, but really, sometimes that’s too hard.

  He sniffed.

  “I’m sorry. What do you mean it was a go?”

  “She knew them all right.”

  “Great. Did you get any kind of hint about the hold Muriel had over Vera?”

  “No. Except that maybe Vera’s father had a thing going with Muriel’s mother. But that wasn’t new. Vera would have known that. Everyone did. So it couldn’t have accounted for the change.”

  “What change?”

  “Something happened and they started to get along. Be friendly. Then almost as suddenly, they weren’t friends again.”

  “No clue what it was?”

  “Well, we were just getting to it when the thing with the oil happened, so it kind of ruined the talk with Flo.”

  “I bet it did.”

  “But there was something else before I
forget.”

  “What?”

  “Trying to remember.”

  “Was it something Flo said?”

  “I think so. It was important. I know that.”

  “Keep thinking. About Vera? About Muriel?”

  “No and no.”

  “About Mr. Murphy?”

  “No.”

  “About Muriel’s stepfather?”

  “No.”

  “Vera’s father?”

  “No.”

  “Call me when you think of it.” How important could it be?

  “I remember. Those guys.”

  “What guys, Kev? You mean the Rileys?”

  “Yeah!”

  “What about them?”

  “They were there.”

  “At George’s?”

  “No, at the school at the same time.”

  “What? That’s not possible.”

  “It is, Jordie. Flo looked at the picture I had and she knew them right away.”

  “But Junior’s in his twenties, Kev. He couldn’t have been at school with Vera.”

  “Not him, silly Jordie. But the other one, the father. They all knew each other. Except for Junior, who wasn’t born yet.”

  “Thanks, Kev. Good work.”

  Except for the kitchen fire.

  “You know what?”

  “What, Kev?”

  “Flo thought there was a thing between Muriel and the older guy.”

  “Frank?”

  “Yeah. Frank.”

  “Could be really important. Wow. It could mean that if they had something going, maybe Frank was involved in the hit-and-run of Muriel’s stepfather.”

  Kev said, “Frank couldn’t have been committing hit-and-runs all the time. Sooner or later, even the dumb cops here would pick him up.”

  I cleared my throat.

  “Sorry, Jordie. I didn’t mean your dumb cop. He’s not that dumb, but you know, the rest of them.”

  I wasn’t even bothered with Kev’s dig at Smiley, because he had identified two major connections. The friendship between Vera and Muriel was important especially since it ended abruptly, and the fact that Frank Riley had been at school and had a “thing” for Muriel was bang-on.

  “You hit the nail on the head.”

  Kev blinked. “I did?”

  “Twice. Frank most likely doesn’t go around committing hit-and-runs or whatever the expression is. He’s a thug, but he only gets really down and dirty when Muriel’s around. First her stepfather was killed, which worked out very well for her. Now this week, there’s another one when she’s back in town for the first time in nearly forty years and determined to get control over Vera and get rid of Vera’s allies; that’s me.”

  “But why would he do it?”

  “I don’t know. Money? Love?”

  “Couldn’t be love. She just gives me the shivers.”

  “Speaking of weird love, can you try to get Eddie’s phone number from the signora?”

  “Eddie’s . . . ?”

  “Yes. Eddie has known Vera since high school, so—”

  “He’ll know these guys too.”

  “And maybe he’ll know what happened back then between Muriel and Vera.”

  “Wow. But I’m not sure that—”

  “Just do it, Kev. And call me as soon as you have it.”

  * * *

  I DROVE HOME worrying about how we could reach Eddie and whether I was ultimately responsible for any damage at George’s Diner and what Muriel could get up to before we managed to get rid of her.

  Once there, I did my best to reassure the cats that the supply of new food wouldn’t run out and in any case, they would soon be back terrorizing everyone at Van Alst House. I assured the dogs that the cats could not unlock the door from Uncle Lucky’s apartment and take over Uncle Mick’s and my side. I sounded more confident than I felt.

  I reheated a nice selection of the signora’s food and made myself a late lunch. All those treats had given me an appetite. After that, I enjoyed a slice of caramel cheesecake and one of the pumpkin muffins. Didn’t want to show favoritism to either Lainie or Mindy, two of the loveliest people I knew.

  Maybe it was a sugar overdose. Or the lingering results of my collision with the truck. I soon began to think that maybe I shouldn’t have ignored the doctor’s warning about not doing too much. Another bout of dizziness and fatigue set in fast. I didn’t even make it upstairs to Ponyville. The stairs were simply beyond me. I crashed on Mick’s comfy old sofa, with two dogs vying for the small leftover section.

  My last waking thought was that Archie would be disappointed in my lack of stamina.

  When I woke up, the sky had taken on a late afternoon gloom. The day was disappearing. The dogs hinted at walks and meals missed, although it was just after four. There was a distant yowl of dissatisfied Siamese.

  I sat up and my head spun. It also throbbed. I felt like hell. I managed to get the dogs around the block. The bracing cold air helped a bit. This wobbliness was very bad just when I needed to get cracking on the Muriel situation. We wobbled back to the house and I gave myself a good talking-to.

  Uncle Mick wasn’t around, but his solution for when you felt bad was always grilled cheese sandwiches with Velveeta. I tried it and it made all the difference. I contemplated having a couple of desserts as they were temptingly available, but decided to forgo the sugar buzz and think.

  I went back to my piece of paper and began to make lists again. I updated my notes:

  Muriel and Vera had been enemies

  They became friendly

  Don’t know why

  They fell out of friendship again

  Don’t know why

  Muriel has something over Vera

  Don’t know what

  Frank Riley was at school at the same time

  Muriel had an alibi for the time of the hit-and-run that killed Pete Delaney

  Could Frank have killed him for her?

  How to find out?

  * * *

  I SAT THERE chewing the end of the pencil and listening to Cobain’s tail thump on the floor. I thought as hard as my fuzzy head would allow. There was something else flickering at the edge of my consciousness. What?

  Something to do with police.

  I felt a little tingle as it came to me. Detective Jones. Wasn’t he the same age as Vera and Muriel and Frank Riley?

  Was the fact he was “on” the case and doing a terrible job of investigating my own hit-and-run more than a coincidence?

  I added Detective Jack Jones to the list.

  The phone rang and jerked me out of my deep, dark thoughts.

  “Bo Peep?”

  “Yes.”

  “I found Eddie’s number in Florida. He left it with the signora in case of emergency. I guess this is an emergency, right?”

  “If it’s not, I don’t know what would be,” I said.

  “You should call him. If I call from here and he’s not there, he might call back. We wouldn’t want him phoning and Muriel picking up.”

  “I’ll do that. But I need you to do something too.”

  “Anything!”

  “Can you find out from Flo if Detective Jack Jones was also in high school at the same time as Vera and Muriel?”

  “Oh boy, Jordie, I mean Bo. I don’t think that will work. Flo’s a bit upset with me.”

  “Of course, she is. Silly me. But maybe we can put your friend Cherie on it.”

  “That’s a great idea. I’ll get in touch with her. She can do anything.”

  “And you trust her, right?”

  “With my life,” Kev said.

  Well. It wasn’t like we had every option in the world.

  I got Eddie’s Florida number and the Eagle went off to track
down Cherie.

  * * *

  I WAS HOPING that Eddie and his mother were back from their cruise and kicking myself that I hadn’t paid that much attention to the details when he’d told us about it.

  No answer. I got one of those pre-recorded messages that mean you can’t tell if you’ve reached the right person. Naturally, it didn’t reveal Eddie’s whereabouts or his return date. Never mind. I took a chance and left a message telling Eddie we urgently needed his help. I was very clear that Eddie (if it was Eddie) was to call me on my cell. He was not to call Vera first under any circumstances. I added mysteriously that this was all for Vera’s safety. I would explain why when we spoke.

  I hung up and thought about it. Eddie and I had shared some cryptic exchanges since we’d met last spring, but now I worried this one had too little detail.

  I called Eddie back and left him a longer message with the full story: I told him how Muriel had moved in and intimidated Vera. I emphasized that Vera was being cut off from her support system and that we feared for her well-being. I explained that we needed information. I mentioned Jack Jones too, just in case.

  I got myself another piece of caramel cheesecake and turned on the regional news to see if there was any mention of the kitchen fire at George’s and specifically any mention of Kev. Because that might take some dealing with, as the aftermath of Kev’s activities so often did. Even the radio announcer’s solemn, deep voice didn’t prepare me for the shock of the breaking news.

  The bodies of two men have been retrieved from just outside Harrison Falls by emergency personnel this afternoon. The men, a father and son, are believed to have drowned. They died when their truck left Long Boundary Road and plunged through a guardrail and into the river. Their names have not yet been identified, as the next of kin have not been notified. Police believe that another vehicle may have been involved in the crash and are asking anyone with information to come forward.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  TWO MEN IN a truck, dead. A father and son.

  The Rileys?

  Had they tried to run someone else down and ended up in the river? I pushed the cake away and headed back to the sofa. The dogs were pleased but I was very troubled. What were the chances that the father and son in a truck were anyone but Frank and Junior? In this part of upstate New York there was no shortage of trucks with fathers and sons riding in them.

 

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