by Krista Davis
“Has Fred been to visit?” I asked.
“He has,” said Griselda. “I don’t like him any better, but he has come by.”
“He brought the beautiful pink roses.” Natasha leaned over to smell them.
“That was thoughtful. They’re beautiful.” A vase of lilies and gladiolas sat next to them. “Who are the other flowers from?”
“Mia’s husband,” said Griselda. “He even came by to see Charlene. Why didn’t she meet a nice man like him? I still don’t like that Fred. He can bring all the roses in Old Town and it won’t change a thing. He has the evil eye.” Griselda tossed a handful of something in the air.
I was certain the nurses appreciated that! “Have the police told you anything?”
“I think they’ve forgotten about her.” Griselda yawned. “I apologize. Natasha and I are taking turns staying with Charlene.”
Natasha did seem tired, but oddly calm.
“You two must be exhausted,” I said.
Natasha moved to the other side of the bed. “I promised her I would stay. There’s nothing else I can do for her.”
“That’s not true,” said Griselda. She turned to me. “Charlene’s apartment building is going condo. She’ll have to buy or move. It’s not the best timing for either of those choices. Natasha has offered to let her live in an apartment over her garage.”
“That’s wonderful! It’s a very cute place. I’m glad she’s in good hands.” I said goodbye and drove home.
The piquant aroma of Chinese food drifted to me as soon as I entered the house. Mars puttered around the kitchen. I noticed he had closed the curtains over the sink.
“Feeling paranoid?” I asked.
“It’s those crazed reporters. I don’t want them seeing me from the street.”
Mars had set the table with chopsticks and my square Adelaide dinner plates. I had to admit that the blue on white toile-like pattern of lush flowers, branches, and birds had a decidedly Asian look.
“Dinner’s ready. I worked on it all day.” He poured white wine into Spode Blue Italian wineglasses. The pattern and color coordinated with the dishes surprisingly well.
“You won’t believe what happened.” Mars gestured for me to sit down at the table.
I gladly slid into the banquette and helped myself to Kung Pao Chicken. I peeked in another container. “Is this Peking Duck?”
“Only the best for you.”
I sipped my wine. “What’s your big news?”
“It’s all over the news shows. Remember how Wesley’s computer was hacked? Today someone released an e-mail he wrote that outs two American spies. It is such a huge breach. This will follow him his entire life. When he dies, the media will call him the congressman who outed undercover agents of the United States. I’m not sure he can get reelected now.”
Even I recognized the significance of that. “Does that mean they hacked into his system again?”
“Probably. As far as I can tell, it’s all happening very fast. Someone hacks into the computer, and the next day it’s on the news.”
“Can’t they track it? I thought all computers had identifying numbers.”
“They do. But hackers are very clever. It’s a shame that smart people use their skills that way.”
I rolled the duck into a steamed pancake. “Was Benton one of the agents who was outed?”
“I didn’t see his name. I hope those two can get to safety.”
“Wait a minute. Could Abby be a spy?” I gazed at Mars.
“She writes cookbooks.”
“What if she doesn’t? What if that was a cover? She was married to a guy who is probably a spy. Maybe the whole thing was a setup to get her into Wesley’s house and inner circle.”
“That’s so crazy!” Mars pulled out a pad of paper and a pen. “We have to get back to what we know for sure.”
“Mia was murdered,” I said. “And Charlene was there. Someone, maybe Mia’s murderer, must have beaten her at Abby’s house, because Charlene’s blood was found there.”
Chapter 30
Dear Sophie,
What do you bake when you need something in a big hurry? I’m always stumped. It seems like everything needs to bake for a long time or has to cool before it can be frosted.
Always in a Rush in Ding Dong, Texas
Dear Always in a Rush,
Coffee cake. Most only need a glaze. Even if you take the time to put a crumble on top and still add a glaze, they are remarkably quick to make.
Sophie
“Excellent. Those are facts. We’re on the right track now. Charlene must have managed to escape, though I can’t imagine where she was before you found her.”
“Maybe she passed out somewhere?” I guessed. “The pain from trying to drag yourself along with a broken leg has to be excruciating.”
“Abby is gone,” said Mars. “Either she’s dead or she ran away to hide from someone.”
“And it’s worth noting that Abby sort of ran away from her life in Milwaukee. I bet a lot of people there still remember her as the babysitter who was caring for Peyton Poulon when she disappeared. She didn’t have that hanging over her when she moved away.”
“I feel a little bit better about our lousy date now that I know she was preoccupied with thoughts about Peyton’s kidnapper. I wish she had told me about it. If she had, maybe none of this would have happened,” said Mars.
“Why were Mia and Charlene at Abby’s house? Did they not know she had gone out to dinner with you?” I asked. “Or did she send them a come-rescue-me-from-this-horrible-date text?”
“Ha ha.” There was no mirth in Mars’s tone. “But that’s a very good question.”
I turned my chopsticks to the thick end, dipped them into the takeout carton and helped myself to more duck. “It is also a fact that Abby left a message about Peyton Poulon.”
“And we have confirmed that Peyton was kidnapped when she was only two years old.”
“Did you do any more research on Peyton?” I asked.
“No, the outing of the spies got my attention. I went back to researching Wesley’s background.”
“Don’t tell me you think he’s a foreign agent or something,” I said.
“Probably not. But there’s something bad in his past, and I’m determined to find it.”
“The kidnapping of Peyton Poulon?” I asked.
Mars sat back and rubbed his forehead. “Do you think that’s possible? How old would Peyton be?”
I hated to tell him. “Around fifteen, I guess.”
“Do you know how old Briley is?”
“Fifteen.”
“Oh boy. That would be the end of everything for him.” Mars shook his head. “You were worried that he’d had an affair with Abby, but this is so much worse!”
“Maybe it’s Schuyler. Or one of their friends. I’ve been assuming that whatever happened to Abby started at Tilly’s house. But we don’t know that. She could have received a phone call from someone that morning. Or she could have seen a girl she thought was Peyton the night before, or when she walked to work.”
“Or on TV, for that matter,” Mars added.
“Or maybe what happened at Abby’s house had nothing to do with Peyton. Maybe it was completely unrelated.”
“You’re speculating again.”
“Make a new list of suspects. Everyone who had anything to do with Mia or Abby.”
“Including Wesley?”
“Of course. And add Fred Conway. I’ve got nothing on him at all. His neighbor doesn’t like him because he doesn’t stop and chat with her. And he brought beautiful pink roses to Charlene.”
“A killer for sure,” Mars uttered sarcastically.
“Someone beat Charlene, and the boyfriend is always the top suspect,” I pointed out.
“But that flies in the face of your previous theory,” argued Mars.
“I’m sticking to the facts like you always tell me to. I miss having Nina and Bernie here.”
“Me too.
But we can’t say anything about Peyton. There’s always a chance that she’s at the root of Mia’s murder. Do you think Wolf is calling the cops in Milwaukee?”
“I would imagine so.”
“I have a bad feeling that we now know why Wesley has been so nervous.”
“Do you think he murdered Mia?”
“Whether he killed her or someone else did, I’d put money on Briley being Peyton Poulon. If he or Tilly was involved in the abduction, that would be disastrous. I don’t know the penalty for kidnapping, but I’d guess they would spend the rest of their lives in prison, even if they didn’t murder someone. Something must have happened that caused Abby to make the connection.” Mars made a note on the pad. “I’ll see if I can find anything that places Wesley in the Milwaukee area around that time.”
“What if Abby somehow discovered that Schuyler was Peyton Poulon?”
“And how would she have learned that?” asked Mars.
“Just indulge me for a minute. Oh! Maybe Abby confided to Mia about Peyton’s kidnapping. Or maybe Abby figured out that Briley is actually Peyton and she confided in Mia.”
“I’m indulging you, but that’s all just speculation. And if Abby thought something like that, why would she confide in Mia?”
I pursued my line of thought. “Mia goes to see Abby to talk about what to do. Wesley, who has no alibi for that evening, follows Mia, waiting for an opportunity to kill her so she won’t spill the beans. Abby and Charlene have the opportunity to escape while he’s murdering Mia.”
“An interesting scenario, Sophie. And one could easily substitute Jericho for Wesley.”
“Why do you continue to believe that Jericho killed Mia when it’s probably Wesley?”
Mars leaned back in his chair and sighed. “Even though Wesley fired me and is trying his level best to point a finger of guilt at me, I like the guy. You said it yourself. Jericho is hanging around there running the show. And I know for a fact that he’s a sleazebag.”
I skipped past his obsession with Jericho. “Unless . . . what if Schuyler is Peyton, and Abby murdered Mia for abducting her?” I asked.
“I almost wish that were the case. But Wesley has been so edgy that I suspect Briley is Peyton. Have you ever met Schuyler’s dad?”
I gasped. “How could I have overlooked him? Schuyler says he’s an obstetrician and quite dedicated to his work. Oh no! I never even thought to bring them a dish. How very impolite of me!”
“I would bet that Tilly has been keeping them well fed.”
“Maybe so.” I glanced at the clock. “Do you think it’s too late to stop by their house with a dessert?”
“Can you bake two?”
“You’re always so subtle, Mars. Maybe I could whip up a blueberry crumb cake for their breakfast tomorrow.”
Mars carried the dishes to the sink. “Sounds delicious. Bet it would make a great midnight snack, too.”
While he rinsed the dishes and put them in the dishwasher, I preheated the oven and doubled my recipe for blueberry crumb cake.
An hour later, I drizzled the two cakes with a lemon glaze and packed one to take to Schuyler’s house. I peeked in the den before I left. Mars was on the sofa glued to his laptop. Daisy looked up at me and gently flapped her tail. Mochie slept next to Mars, upside down.
“I’ll be back soon.”
Mars didn’t even look up. “Okay. We’ll guard the fort.”
I stepped outside the kitchen door and returned immediately for a jacket. It was definitely a transitional time of year. How did the temperature drop so fast? Wearing a dark green quilted barn jacket, I ventured forth.
There weren’t many lights on in Schuyler’s home. Especially not compared to Tilly’s house next door, where it seemed that lights glowed in all the windows.
I knocked on the door and heard footsteps approaching. A short man with a remarkably round head opened the door. “May I help you?”
“I’m Sophie Winston. I’ve been working for Tilly and met Schuyler at Tilly’s house. I just wanted to drop this off for your breakfast and to let you know how very sorry I am for your loss.”
“Oh. That’s very kind of you. Won’t you come in?”
I stepped into a grand foyer. Mia had kept it somewhat simple, with beige walls and a table for flowers in front of a mirror. An arched opening led to an impressive staircase.
He led me into a formal living room. A chandelier hung from the ceiling, and the fireplace had an elegant marble surround. The furniture was prim, the kind that forces you to sit up straight and mind your manners.
“Pierce Hendrickson,” he said, holding out his hand. “I believe Schuyler has mentioned you. She’s out on a date.”
“A date?”
He gestured to me to sit down.
I placed the coffee cake on a table.
“Do you think she’s too young?” he asked.
“I have no idea,” I said. “They grow up so fast these days.”
“Tilly seemed to think it was okay. It’s a group thing, I think.”
He seemed lost, as if he had landed on a planet he knew nothing about. “Mia took care of those details. Don’t get me wrong, I couldn’t love Schuyler more if she were my own, but I don’t know anything about teenagers.” He forced a wan smile. “They really should come with instructions.”
A chill came over me. “Schuyler isn’t your daughter?”
“Oh, she is. I adopted her a long time ago. She’s not my biological daughter. She’s Mia’s child by a previous husband. Schuyler was five when I married Mia. She was such an adorable child! And now”—he took a deep breath—“I guess it’s just the two of us.”
“I’m so sorry. I still can’t believe Mia is gone.”
“Me either.” He looked away. “It’s, uh, life-changing. I’ve been wandering through my days in a haze, unable to comprehend why anyone would be so brutal. Every night I lie in bed wondering why Mia went to that woman’s house. I was at the hospital delivering a baby.” He looked at his hands. “One life was snuffed out and another one began that night.”
Pierce looked at me. “I never realized how much Mia did around here. I was so focused on my job that I find myself at a complete loss. Everyone has been so kind.” He paused briefly as though he was trying to hold himself together. “I actually had to look for the coffee. Mia always had it ready and waiting for me. She took such good care of Schuyler and me.”
Tears ran over his cheeks. “I’m sorry.” He sniffled.
“Don’t be silly. It’s quite understandable. Grief takes time.”
“I’m not the handsomest guy in the world. When I met Mia, I couldn’t believe she was interested in me. How did I land a beauty like her? She could have had any man she wanted. That auburn hair of hers cascaded around her shoulders and gleamed like it had been touched by gold. She turned heads everywhere we went. And I knew people were always wondering, what does she see in that guy? I felt like the luckiest man on the planet.”
I ached for him. Had no one let him talk? Had his colleagues and friends been too busy telling him how they felt? I let him ramble in the hope that it was cleansing for him.
“I just don’t understand why she was taken from me.” He winced and mashed his eyes shut. “When I think what that person did to her. She must have been so scared. And then, the freezer. What kind of demented person does that?”
He tried to smile but his lips quivered. “I’m sorry. You’re the first person who hasn’t run off or told me what to do. Death is an awful thing. None of us know how to handle it. I can only hope that the police find the monster who killed my angel.”
“I know Wolf personally. You couldn’t ask for a better investigator.”
“He stopped by here, too. He wanted to know where I was on Friday night. I never would have hurt a hair on Mia’s head. She and Schuyler are everything to me. I can only hope that I don’t mess up Schuyler’s teen years.”
As I listened to Pierce ramble, I couldn’t help drawing a distinction bet
ween him and Natasha’s father, who abandoned both of his daughters. Pierce was a shambles at the moment, but I could see his kind heart and his desire to do the best for Schuyler.
“Can I offer you some tea?” he asked. Before I could answer, he giggled halfheartedly. “I don’t even know if we have any tea. I do know that we have wine.”
“Thank you, but I should get going.” I found a pen and paper in my purse and wrote down my name and phone number. “If you should need anything, I hope you’ll give me a call. Even if you only need to talk with someone.”
He glanced at my name. “Thank you, Sophie. I might just take you up on that.”
In spite of the chill in the air when I left his house, I walked back over to Abby’s house. It was dark and silent. I opened the gate to the passageway along the side of the house and ventured to the back patio. In the quiet night, I tried to imagine what had gone on there. Mia hadn’t escaped the killer’s wrath, but Charlene, beaten as she was, had somehow found the strength to get away. Had she dragged herself through the passageway? The gate to the alley was much closer. I walked over to it and gazed at the latch. Lying on the ground, I pretended I couldn’t use my legs and reached for the latch. I was able to hit it with my fingers. The gate opened. I scrambled to my feet and stood in the alley. Which way?
If Charlene knew where Natasha lived, then she might have headed in that direction. But she probably needed to hide from the killer. She must have been terrified that he would find her.
Eunice’s house would have been the closest. I repeated the action of lying on the ground to see if I could open the gate latch. No problem. The gate swung inward.
If I had to hide, I would have tried to get inside Eunice’s garage. It would have been hard for Charlene, but I thought she could probably have opened the door.
I gazed around Eunice’s patio for any other possible hiding places. Except for the deck storage box, there really wasn’t anyplace. I walked over to it and tried the latch. It opened easily.