Secret Sisters

by Tristi Pinkston

  Which it finally was after about a half hour. He took a cup and downed it.

  “Test it out,” he whispered to Eden.

  “What should I do?”

  “Go down there and walk slowly up the drive.”

  She disappeared, a little too completely for Ida Mae’s taste. A few minutes later, she heard soft footsteps, and Eden reappeared like a shadow.

  Ren looked at the camera. “Two pictures were taken,” he verified. “Tomorrow we can double-check the timestamp feature.”

  Ida Mae was so cold, she couldn’t feel her thighs. As she climbed into the car, she rubbed her hands on her legs, trying to restore any sort of feeling.

  “Sorry that took me so long,” Ren said. “I wanted to be sure to get it just right.”

  “I thought it was exciting,” Eden said. “Waiting to see if we’d get caught, concocting wild alibis, imagining how we’d flee through the trees to safety—I haven’t had this much fun in a long time.”

  “You’ve got a strange idea of fun,” Ida Mae said even while she secretly agreed. She hadn’t felt so alive since her twenties.

  They drove home slowly, not taking the risk of speeding and getting pulled over by the sheriff or one of his men. They liked to patrol at odd hours of the night to keep the criminal element down—or so the sheriff said. Ida Mae had to bite back a laugh at the thought. They had crime going on right here, and the sheriff didn’t care.

  *

  “I got the job,” Eden announced, a grin spreading across her face. “I walked in, told them I was applying, and sat right down at the computer. He had me show him some basic skills, and I was hired on the spot.”

  “That’s great,” Ida Mae said. She handed the girl a cookie and a napkin. “Now we can start to investigate in earnest.”

  “We’ve been earnest,” Tansy said, a wounded look crossing her face.

  “We have, Tansy, and I didn’t mean anything by it,” Ida Mae soothed. She handed another cookie around that way as well, and all hurt feelings were mended.

  “So, what’s our plan for this week?” Arlette asked.

  “Let’s get Eden settled before we make that decision,” Ida Mae said. “Ren is going to check the camera tonight and make sure the timestamp feature is working. Eden can report on the setup there at the warehouse, and once we hear from the two of them, we’ll know what to do next.”

  Everyone in the room nodded.

  “Now, when will Hannah be back with us?” Tansy asked.

  “She’s not sure, but I think we’ll be okay without her for a little while. She’s agreed to let me call her if I have any questions, and so far this morning, I’ve only had to call four times. That’s progress, I believe.” Ida Mae leaned forward and picked up the empty cookie plate. “I’ll get a refill.”

  When she returned, she flipped through her agenda. “All right now. Tansy, you checked in with the Sylvesters, right?”

  “Yes, I did. Sister Sylvester is having a boy and two girls—isn’t that wonderful? She’s doing all right in bed, although she’s still a bit bored. She’s got books and movies, but she wants to be up and around, poor thing.” All the women nodded.

  “The bishop is feeling a little better, and his blood pressure went down again just a mite. But things at work are getting hectic, so who knows how long that will last. I’ve got meals arranged for the rest of the week, and we’re getting someone in to spell off the children’s aunt on Friday night.” Tansy sat back, beaming with pride in her report.

  “Thank you, Tansy. A marvelous job as always. Arlette, how is the substitute teacher situation coming along?”

  “I was able to get Sister Black and Sister Wilson to teach the last two Sundays of February,” Arlette said. “Hopefully, the new teachers will be called soon.”

  “I submitted the names, but I haven’t wanted to pester the bishop about it,” Ida Mae said.

  “I understand,” Arlette said, her knitting needles clicking righteously.

  “Now, Eden, when do you start the new job?”

  “Tomorrow.”

  “So soon? That’s good,” Ida Mae said. She thought for a moment, nodding. “If anything happens, you can use your cell phone on your break and let us know, all right? I’ll jot down our numbers for you to call.”

  “Make sure Ren’s cell number is on there,” Arlette interjected. Her face went red, something Ida Mae had never seen before in all her days. “In case she needs backup, you know.”

  “I’ll do that,” Ida Mae promised.

  The ladies streamed out, Eden remaining to help clean up. “I’m sorry to drag you in on all the Relief Society business,” Ida Mae told her. “We try to keep our Secret Sisters meetings separate, but our duties overlap so much, we generally end up talking about everything all at once.”

  “That’s all right,” Eden said as she stooped to pick up a fallen napkin. “It was interesting. I always thought the Relief Society was a well-oiled machine—I didn’t realize how much oil went into it.”

  “Quite a lot, and elbow grease too. But it all gets spread around. I’ll help one sister on Monday, and by Tuesday, she’s out helping someone else.”

  “What about you, Ida Mae?” Eden fixed her with a discerning look. “Who takes care of you?”

  Ida Mae blinked, taken aback. “I—well, I have Arlette and Tansy and Hannah, and I’m sure someone would come in and help me if I needed anything.”

  “But you don’t need anything? Not a single thing?”

  Ida Mae thought for a minute. “Well, I did need one thing, and that was companionship. But Ren has taken care of that for me.”

  “About Ren,” Eden said slowly, moving toward another stray napkin. “Is he planning to be here long?”

  “We haven’t discussed a timeline, but I think he’s happy here. He can stay as long as he likes, but of course, he’s also free to go whenever he wants.” Ida Mae looked at Eden, wondering what prompted this new line of questioning.

  “And is he seeing anyone?”

  Crystal-clear focus shot into place. “He was, but he recently broke up with her. She wasn’t his type.” Ida Mae saw Eden’s shoulders relax.

  “I’m glad,” Eden said. “Not that he had to break up, but that he knew it and fixed it. Too many people end up with boyfriends or girlfriends, or even spouses, who aren’t good for them.” A bitter tone crept into her voice, making Ida Mae curious about the history there.

  “Did you have a bad breakup, dear?” she asked.

  “No, I’m talking about my parents. They divorced when I was ten. I haven’t had any bad breakups because I’ve never let anyone get that close to me. I guess it’s a throwback from all those childhood memories.”

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.” Ida Mae led the way into the kitchen, where she turned on the water and let the sink fill.

  “I don’t think Grandma talks about it much. She likes to focus on the positive.”

  Ida Mae coughed, reaching for a drink. After swallowing and making sure she wasn’t about to have a lung come flying out, she said, as carefully as she could, “Has she always been so . . . positive?”

  “My whole life. She told me that there’s enough sorrow in the world to drag you down without looking for it. She’s amazing, really. All those socks.”

  Ida Mae frowned, trying to understand the connection. “Socks?” she said at last, not being successful.

  “The socks. You know, the socks she’s always making. She donates them to the homeless shelter in Salt Lake.”

  “I didn’t know that,” Ida Mae said, pulling out a stool and sitting abruptly. “I just thought she liked to knit.”

  “She gets donations of yarn all through the year and spends her time making socks. Oh, but don’t tell her I told you,” Eden said quickly. “If she’s been keeping it a secret, she’d be mad if I said anything.”

  “I won’t say a word.”

  Ida Mae felt thoroughly foolish as she bid Eden goodbye and watched her drive away. All this time, she’d been
so critical of Arlette’s outrageous color choices and she couldn’t understand why she had to be knitting all the time, like she had some sort of wool compulsion. And now to find out that she was merely taking what she’d been given and turning it into something useful—something that would really benefit the recipient? Ida Mae shook her head. It was almost more than she could process, and once again, she chastised herself for judging.

  Chapter Seventeen

  The Baby Mine Company manufactures formula, diapers, cribs, car seats—pretty much anything you can think of for a baby,” Eden said. She pulled a brochure from her bag. “This is a piece of literature they circulate to the stores. Baby food, clothing—it’s all in there.”

  “I love their products,” Hannah said, rejoining the meeting for the first time in a while. “Especially the diapers. They’ve got little blue bunnies on the outside, and they’re really absorbent.”

  “Blue bunnies? Like Beatrix Potter?” Tansy asked.

  “Sort of, but a little more cartoon-like. And the girl diapers have pink bunnies on them.”

  “Boy diapers and girl diapers?” Ren asked. “Does it really matter?”

  “Some people think it does, but I’m not so sure,” Hannah replied.

  “Back to the topic at hand,” Ida Mae spoke up. “Eden was just telling us about the warehouse.”

  “They ship their products all over the nation,” Eden said. “Today I was given a tour of the facilities and the basic rundown of how everything works. The merchandise comes in from the factory and is stored in the warehouse. It’s shipped out from there. One end of the building is the shipping area, and the rest is for storage. Nick’s job is to unload the truck from the factory in the morning, and then in the afternoon to ship out the orders of baby food and formula. Other people fill the orders for the larger items, like cribs and car seats.”

  Ida Mae scribbled furiously. “So he unloads the truck and then he packages product.”

  “Correct.”

  Ida Mae paused, nibbling on her pencil. “Ren says he saw the black Jaguar parked outside the warehouse the other day. Was it there today?”

  “Yes, it was. The man in the Jaguar is James Jeffries. He’s the vice president of the company, thirty-five years old, single, has dark hair and eyes, a small moustache, likes French cuisine, and stands about six feet tall.”

  Ida Mae blinked. That was a lot more information than she’d expected for just one day on the job, and certainly more than they ever would have been able to glean from the DMV computer, if they’d been successful—which they hadn’t. But she was choosing not to dwell on that.

  “How did you learn all that?” Arlette asked. “I thought you were going to be surreptitious.”

  “I was,” Eden said. “But after watching the Jaguar all day and not seeing anyone go near it, I decided to take matters into my own hands. I went up to Nichole, one of the other female employees, and asked her who owned the Jaguar and if he was single.”

  “And you got all that information?” Ren asked.

  “Of course,” Eden said, flapping one hand in his direction. “Women love to talk about men.”

  “I’ve also heard that women can smell fear,” he replied. “Is that true?”

  “Of course,” she said again.

  Ida Mae decided to intervene before the conversation got any more . . . interesting. She turned to Ren. “Do you have anything to report?”

  “I went out to the Dunns’ early this morning to check the camera. The Jag came by at eight o’clock last night.”

  “Could you see if the driver delivered another envelope?”

  “The camera doesn’t have that wide of an angle. We’ve got it set to cover the driveway, not clear up by the shed.”

  “Eight o’clock,” Ida Mae murmured, jotting down the time. “Okay, let’s get back to Nick’s job. It sounds perfectly respectable to me.”

  “There has to be something we’re missing,” Arlette said. “There’s nothing sinister about baby food.”

  “I don’t know about that,” Hannah said. “Have you ever tasted the veal?”

  *

  Days went by with nothing to report. Eden enjoyed her job—not just the spying, but the actual clerking as well. James Jeffries apparently liked to keep to the shadows—Arlette’s theory that evil loves darkness possibly being proven—because Eden hadn’t actually seen him at work even though the car was there. Ren checked the camera at the Dunns’ four days a week and the ladies were able to establish a pattern—the Jaguar showed up every ten days around eight o’clock at night.

  Rose had settled well in Hannah’s basement, Heidi was learning how to communicate with her son through sign language, and Joey would be getting his cast off in a few short days. Everything seemed to be humming along as usual. Ida Mae checked her to-do list and noticed that everything was blissfully calm. It was boring.

  The monotony ended one afternoon when the phone rang. “It’s Eden. Can I meet with all of you tonight?”

  “Certainly,” Ida Mae said, making a note in her appointment book. As she hung up the phone, she noticed her heart was starting to thump a little faster. She had something to look forward to.

  She spent the rest of the day cleaning her house, keeping one eye on the clock. When seven o’clock hit, she grew anxious. Where were the others? Had something happened to them?

  She threw the door wide when she heard the first footsteps on the porch. “Come in,” she said, taking Eden’s coat, then Arlette’s. “Ren’s in his room, and Tansy will be here any minute.”

  Once everyone was seated, Eden got straight to the point. “Nick came into the office today,” she said. “He needed the zip code for Tulsa. I looked it up for him.”

  “I’m not sure why that’s significant,” Ida Mae said.

  “Whenever an order comes in, the address is printed right on the order form,” Eden explained. “For some reason, that order didn’t have a complete address. I took the form and looked it over. It appeared to be normal, except for the missing zip code. And the fact that I didn’t print it out.”

  Ida Mae’s confusion must have shown on her face.

  Eden explained. “It’s my job to take the orders and create shipping labels for them,” she said. “I can do that basically by clicking ‘print’ in the right software, but we’re required to put our initials down in the bottom of the form. I click on a box, up comes a text field, I input my initials, click save, and then print. My initials are on the bottom of every form I print. I double-check as they come out of the printer. It’s a precaution on the part of the company—if an order gets goofed up, they know who to blame. The person who ships the package also initials the form so we know who packed the box.”

  “So, let me get this straight,” Ren said. “Every order form you send down to the shipping area has your initials on it.”

  “That’s right. And I’m the only person in the company who processes orders. The other secretary answers the phones, makes out the paychecks, and all that. She doesn’t do orders.”

  “So, this order comes through with no zip code, Nick brings it to you, and you see that it doesn’t have your initials,” Ren continued.

  “That’s right. Besides, I can’t process an order without an entire address. If I don’t have the full address, I have to call the customer up and get it before we process it.”

  “You’re saying someone slipped an order form into the stack without your knowledge,” Ida Mae said.

  “That’s exactly what I’m saying. Someone used the company form and printed out the order, but it didn’t come through my desk.”

  Ren leaned back, looking thoughtful. “What was the order for?”

  “A case of baby formula.”

  “Soy or milk based?” Tansy asked.

  “Milk based,” Eden said.

  “My boys never could drink milk,” Arlette said. “I think lactose intolerance runs in my family.”

  The room fell quiet as everyone thought over what they’d learned
. “Eden,” Ida Mae said after a while, “you must have access to the company’s computer database for orders, right? I mean, you can go back and see what’s been ordered in the last few days.”

  “Yes, I can.”

  “Why don’t you see what you can find out about this order? Maybe whoever placed it left some kind of telltale information on it.”

  “Good thinking, Auntie,” Ren said. “Maybe there will be a timestamp or something on it.”

  “I’ll do it first thing,” Eden said. “I’m swamped in the morning with all the Internet orders that come in late at night—I’ll squeeze it in the middle of that and no one will be the wiser.”

  The group chatted for another few minutes, then rose and prepared to leave. The phone rang just as Ida Mae was encouraging Tansy to take some cookies home to Earl.

  “Sister Babbitt? This is Anne Gimble,” said a woman’s shaky voice on the other end. “Darcy’s missing.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Ren drove Eden home while Arlette, Tansy, and Ida Mae made their way to the Gimbles’ house. Anne met them on the front porch, her eyes red from crying.

  “The police say they can’t classify her as a missing person yet because we haven’t been able to reach all her friends,” she told them. “And she’s too old for an Amber Alert, and we don’t know that she’s been kidnapped. I just want them to do something right now—I can’t take this waiting.”

  “When did you notice she was gone?” Ida Mae asked.

  “She didn’t come home from school, and I thought she went home with Tracey. She does that sometimes—Tracey’s the only one who knows she’s pregnant, so she spends a lot of time there. But then I got an automated call from the high school saying she’d missed all her classes. I called Tracey’s house to talk to Darcy about skipping school, and Tracey said she hadn’t seen Darcy today at all.”

  “Does she take the bus to school?” Arlette asked.

  “She rides with friends, or she drives. They take turns carpooling.”

  Ida Mae motioned toward the house. “Let’s go inside, Anne. It’s getting cold out here.”