The worry edging into Willow’s stomach dug a little deeper. “Do you have the number she was calling from?”
Erika nodded and recited it out while Willow typed it into her phone. “It won’t do you any good,” she added. “I’ve tried it a few times, but it just goes to the motel lobby. The girl there is about as helpful as a bathing suit in a snowstorm.”
Before Willow could dial the number to test for herself, the front door slammed behind them, and Trace Cowden stamped inside. “That fool at work made me come home. Said my head wasn’t on straight to do the work.” He blushed as he saw they had company. “Pardon me,” he added. “I’m just upset because he’s docking my pay.”
“It’s probably for the best.” Erika took his jacket and hung it up beside the door. “You don’t want to be fixing up someone’s engine and putting the wrong bits in or not tightening up the right screws.”
“I’m perfectly capable of working,” Trace said defensively. “Now, we’ll have to scrimp to pay for groceries by the end of the month.”
“I’ll be able to pick up another shift at work to make up for it.” Erika went through to the kitchen and put on a pot of coffee. “Would you ladies like a drink?”
“We can’t stay,” Willow said, feeling like an interloper listening in to a private conversation. “I just wanted to check about Tiffany.”
“What about her?” Trace glared at her through blood-shot eyes. Even from where she was standing, a good yard away, Willow could smell last night’s alcohol on his breath. She wondered if him being sent home had more to do with that than with worry over his daughter and son-in-law. “If you’ve heard anything, you need to say.”
“No, we haven’t. That’s what we were hoping you could tell us.”
“This is Tiff’s boss,” Erika shouted out from the kitchen. “She hasn’t called her either.”
“I’m sorry.” Trace shook his head. “We didn’t raise Tiffany to run out on all her responsibilities like this. I don’t know what’s got into the girl.”
“She deserves to have a few days off,” Erika remonstrated. “Our girl’s been working twenty-four seven without stopping since she left school and if she wants to have a short break, it’s about time.”
“The deputies came to work and all,” Trace said with an abrupt change of subject. “They took a good hard look at the car. Said they were doing it for all the vehicles in town, but they never did more than glance at Bobby’s car or Jackson’s truck.”
Erika came back into the room, frowning and carrying two brimming cups of coffee. “Which car are you using, anyway? I thought you were in the Datsun.”
“No. I’ve got the wee Honda. Saves on the gas bill and I’ve been tooling up the engine during my lunch breaks.” Trace’s face darkened. “Not that I’ll be able to finish it up today. I had it booked in to get it up on the hoists and take a look underneath. Now that’ll be put back a month.”
“It’s part of Trace’s job at the garage,” Erika explained, though neither Willow nor Harmony asked. “Tinkering with our vehicles to keep them in shape has helped us out of a tight spot more than once.”
“I could give you a discount on yours if you want. Just give me a minute, I’ve got a voucher.”
Before Willow could decline the offer, Trace wandered off into another room, then returned a minute later with a folded coupon in his hand. “Gets you twenty percent off pretty much anything.” He handed it over, and Willow saw the grazes and split skin on his knuckles. She wondered if they were the reason Clay had gone flying out of The Old Chestnut the previous night.
“Well, thanks very much for your time. Please let me know if you hear from your daughter. I’m very anxious about her welfare and would love to hear she’d turned up safe.”
“She’ll be okay,” Erika said, her face telling a different story. “And I’m sorry if she’s left you in the lurch.”
“Don’t worry about that. I’ve got it covered.”
Willow and Harmony waved goodbye, then let themselves out and hurried down the driveway. As they skirted around the sides of the bright yellow Honda parked outside, Willow could just make out the outline of a dark car through the dusty window of the garage. The Datsun, she presumed.
“That did absolutely nothing to set my mind at rest.” Harmony stepped forward and stared straight down at the street. “I just wish somebody had heard something.”
“I’ve got that number for the motel. We could give it a ring and see what the manager knows about Tiffany.”
“I suppose that’ll have to do.”
Willow tilted her head to one side, a small smile curling up the corner of her lips. “Or, I could drive us down there, so we can take a look for ourselves. I’m sure we’ll find out a lot more if we put the questions to the manager in person.”
Harmony hooked her arm through Willow’s, giving her a broad smile. “That sounds like the best idea of all. We can travel in my car if you prefer.”
“Better not. It’s about time Mavis went on her first road trip and she’s shedding something wicked at the moment. I’d hate for your entire back seat to end up covered in cat hairs.”
“I’m in complete agreement with you on that point!”
Chapter Seven
The drive down to the motel was lovely. The late summer had cooled just enough for the open windows to be a joy rather than a necessity and the tail seasons of all the wildflowers along the highway offered a display of riotous blooms. Mavis sat on her hind legs in the back seat, her face glued to the window as though it was a much-anticipated TV show.
Willow’s only regret was that she hadn’t brought along her snips to take clippings from some of the more exotic roadside plants.
After the wild beauty, the perfunctory cleanliness of the motel seemed drab in comparison. The paint had peeled in the heat of the long summer, needing a touch-up before the colder days of winter hit.
Half the rooms appeared unoccupied, and the cars pulled up in front of others were suffering from the dust of the open road. Willow resisted the urge to write ‘clean me’ on the back of one of the worst offenders, a white Toyota Camry that now appeared dull taupe.
The girl in the motel’s lobby looked up as soon as they walked through the door. “Hey, there. You want a room for the night?”
Harmony took the lead, walking across and standing in front of the young woman. A name tag on her chest announced her name as Betty.
“Hey, Betty. Do you remember me from the weekend?”
A frown briefly crossed Betty’s face, then cleared as she snapped her fingers. “Sure, I do. You arrived late on Saturday and booked a room for a week with your friend.”
Betty turned her attention toward Willow, and the frown returned and deepened. “Your other friend.”
“And is my first friend still checked in here, or did she leave?”
“Well, she didn’t check-out, but when the police came by this morning, she wasn’t in her room neither. Why? Is she in trouble?”
“That depends on where she’s got to.” Harmony smiled and leaned across the counter. “I don’t suppose we could borrow the room key and check it out for ourselves?”
Betty shook her head then changed her mind halfway through and nodded. “Sure. I mean, you’re the one who paid for it, so I guess that’s okay.”
She pulled a room key out of the slot and passed it across, holding onto the tab, so when Harmony tugged, it stayed in her hand. “I can’t afford to lose this key as well, though. If you don’t bring it back, it’s a whole thing with me having to call the locksmith and spending money we don’t have.”
“I promise we’ll bring it right back to you,” Willow said. “In fact, we’ll leave it in the keyhole while we’re looking at the room, so we can’t forget.”
Betty appeared happy with that answer and the broad smile she’d been wearing when they first walked in lit her face again. She let go of the tab. “That’s just fine, then. Hand it in before you leave and if you catch up with yo
ur friend, ask her to mail the original back. It saves us so much trouble.”
“I sure will.” Harmony waved goodbye and led the way out of the office. “The room’s just down here a bit.” She walked halfway down the row before stopping and checking the number on the key against the door. “Here we go.”
The room was dingy, the curtains all drawn against the brightness outside. Willow made a mental note. Unless the cleaners were in the habit of closing them when they came through, then it could have been nighttime when Tiffany was last inside.
She pulled all of them open to flood the space with light, but there was nothing more to see. The twin beds were made up with not even a wrinkle to show that someone had sat upon them. There was a handful of wrapped fudge pieces lying in a small bowl on the table, and when Willow checked the small trash bins positioned around the room, she found them all empty.
Harmony got down onto her hands and knees and lifted the coverlets on the beds to check underneath.
“What are you doing?” Willow laughed at the sight of her friend crawling around. “You can’t really believe Tiffany will be hiding under the bed.”
“I’m checking in case there’s any trash under here that could offer us a clue.”
Harmony rolled onto her back after pulling the covers back into place and heaved out a breath. She sat up in stages, using the edge of the bed as though it were a handrail.
“That’s not such a bad idea.” Willow opened the sliding wardrobe door and peered inside. Nothing. She moved across to the bathroom. “There’s her toothbrush and a comb in here.”
Harmony moved to peer over her shoulder, then sighed. “I don’t think that tells us anything, except I’m not crazy for thinking she was here.”
“We can check with Betty to see if the cleaners had to make up the room yesterday or this morning.” Willow gave a cautious glance at her friend, concerned at how dismayed Harmony appeared. “That will give us some indication of when she left.”
Harmony nodded, then sat down on the bed and stared at her hands. “I can’t help thinking this whole thing is my fault. I should never have revealed Tiffany’s location to the police. She’s a grown woman, after all. If she wants to disappear for a week, she’s allowed to.”
“It stopped the sheriff dedicating resources from the department he could better use elsewhere.” Willow sat down and put an arm around Harmony’s shoulder. “Besides, we don’t know the two things are related.”
“Don’t you think they will be?”
Willow stared at the floor for a moment, then nodded her head. “Yeah. I can’t see how they wouldn’t be. I doubt Sheriff Wender would’ve run his mouth off, but there’s probably a deputy who thought he was doing everyone a favor by telling Clay where his wife was.”
Harmony nodded, a tear dropping onto her knee. “That’s what I figured too.”
Willow tried to picture the scene that might have unfolded here. Clay, angry that his wife needed time away, turning up and dragging her out to the car. Nobody had seen any evidence of him hurting Tiffany before, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t, given the right levels of anger. Had he beat his wife, earning himself the horrible death of being run over in retaliation?
“I can’t see it.” Willow squeezed Harmony’s shoulder, then pulled her arm away. “Even if Clay came here and got Tiffany, I don’t see how that led to her hitting him with a car. If she was that upset, wouldn’t he have stayed home rather than go out drinking?”
“Maybe she got away from him and came back later.” Harmony stood and stretched her back out, one vertebra popping loudly. “If she was upset enough, perhaps just the sight of him out on the street was enough to make her put her foot down.”
“Before she sped off into the sunset, leaving her children behind with her mom?” Willow shook her head. “I can’t picture her doing that.”
“Then where is she?” Harmony peered around the room again as though Tiffany might materialize in front of them. “If she’s not involved with Clay’s death, where did she go?”
“I don’t know.” Willow got to her feet as well and strode toward the door. “But we can ask at the front desk. There’re cameras along the walkway. Hopefully, they saw something.”
Betty dashed that hope in a few seconds. “They’re not real.” She pointed to a camera mounted in the corner of the lobby. “That’s the only eye we’ve got with a live feed. The rest are to dissuade people with sticky fingers. If you’d seen the cost it’d be to get them hooked up, you’d understand. There are fees, and then there’s daylight robbery.”
“And I suppose Tiffany didn’t come here to tell you she was leaving?” Willow knew the answer would be no, but she had to ask.
Betty shook her head. “Besides, the deputy took all that footage away with him. We only save it to the one drive, so even if there were something, I couldn’t show it to you.”
“I don’t suppose any other shops around here would have cameras pointing this way?” Before Willow finished her sentence, Betty’s head was shaking.
“Well, thank you for letting us see the room.” Harmony handed back the key.
“You’re welcome. I hope you find your friend.”
Harmony nodded. “So do we.”
As they were getting back into the car for the long drive home, Willow squinted across the road. There was a small alcove with a dozen shops in it, but her eyesight wasn’t up to the task of telling her anything more.
She nudged Harmony and pointed. “Do you think anybody over there will have seen anything?”
Harmony pursed her lips as she scanned the names of the small shops. “Probably not. I imagine Clay came here and got her quite late, so none of those places would be open.” She turned to Willow with a grin. “But I fancy a donut if you’ll have one with me.”
After lavishing some affection on Mavis, Willow eased the car out of the motel’s driveway and headed straight across, pulling into the alcove’s parking lot. “I do fancy something nice and fattening and utterly bad for us in every way,” she said with a wink. “Even if I regret it for the rest of the day.”
“My father always told me you can only regret the things in life you don’t do.”
Willow hooked her arm through her friends as they walked into the shop. After ordering, she asked as casually as she could, “I don’t suppose you’ve seen anything happening over the road lately, have you?”
The weary girl behind the counter wiped her forehead with the back of her wrist. “Happening how?”
“Maybe someone protesting getting into a car? Something like that.”
The waitress shook her head, then leaned forward and shouted to a woman sitting on a chair facing out the window. “Hey, Dot. Did you see anyone being kidnapped across the road?”
The woman turned around, her face tensing as though figuring out if she were being made fun of or not.
“Go and see Dot. If anyone saw anything, it’ll be her.” The girl at the counter put their donuts in a bag and handed them across. “She’s here most of the day, every day.”
Willow thanked her, and they moved across to sit next to Dot. After introductions, they repeated the question. “I’m afraid we don’t know what it might have looked like, but I’m assuming our friend wouldn’t have been keen to go with the man who picked her up,” Willow finished.
Dot pushed her glasses up with the back of her hand and peered across the road. “Yeah. I saw something that might fit. The girl was tall with dark hair, combed back into one of those messy buns they fancy nowadays.”
“That sounds like her,” Willow agreed, leaning forward anxiously. “What happened?”
“Well, it wasn’t much of a ruckus so it mightn’t be the right woman, but from what I saw, she didn’t want to get into the car. She called out, not quite a scream but also pretty loud for the late afternoon, not that there was anyone else about. That was when I paid attention.”
“What happened then?”
“The woman shouted something like, ‘I
don’t want to go, Daddy,’ and then the man with her shouted back to just get in, and she got into the passenger seat. They drove off after that.”
Chills crept up Willow’s spine, lodging in the base of her neck. “She called him Daddy?”
Dot nodded.
“What sort of car was it?”
At that, the woman’s face went blank, and she shook her head. “I’m bad at that stuff. I don’t know makes or models or nothing.”
“Well—” Willow frowned “—was it a car or a truck?”
“A car. One of them longer, old-fashioned types.”
“And do you remember the color?”
“Dark,” Dot said after shrugging. “Maybe green?”
As they took their treat donuts out to the car, Willow turned to Harmony with an excited expression on her face. “Did you hear that?”
“Yeah, but a yellow Honda doesn’t really fit the bill.”
Willow sat down and bit into her donut with a satisfied air. “Except, Trace had another car in the garage. An old Datsun that’s painted racing car green!”
Chapter Eight
Although Willow felt like walking straight into the Cowden’s house and confronting Trace, Harmony’s clearer head prevailed.
“We must tell the sheriff everything we found out today and leave him to deal with it. I don’t want to be confronting a potential murderer with only you to protect me!”
Willow laughed at that, and together they drove to the sheriff’s office instead. She hooked Mavis into her arms before striding in there, figuring they’d cooped her kitten up in the car for long enough that day.
“He’ll be able to see you in a few minutes,” Mary-Jo, the receptionist, told them. “He’s just dealing with one of the forensic guys.” She rolled her eyes and mimed a yawn. “I don’t suppose your kitty wants to learn how to file paperwork, does she?”
Tea Shop Cozy Mysteries - Books 1-6 Page 37