Suddenly he stopped writing. Wait. He was Ray DuPont’s son, a legitimate relative. Well, maybe not legitimate, but they didn’t have to know his father hadn’t married his mother. No one alive could say any different.
Deke put his tool box in the car along with some anti-freeze, some food in a cooler and some cans of beer. He’d have to find a pretty cheap hotel for the night. The possibility of an early snowfall worried him. Could the rain turn into ice? He hoped not. he couldn’t afford the tire chains.
He’d taken an extra day off from the warehouse, truthfully telling his boss that a relative had died.
“Another one?”
“This is my step-mother.”
The man shifted the cigar in his mouth and nodded grudgingly. ‘Be back Monday four p.m. sharp.”
In a half an hour, Deke headed down the road and in another hour began to wind up the road into the mountains towards Big Bear Lake.
He stopped at the local chamber of commerce and got a map of the town.
“I’m looking for the home of someone who died recently. A friend of mine knew her. He asked me to drop off some flowers while I was up here looking at some property.”
The woman smiled magnanimously. “Oh you should be able to find it on this map. I’d be glad to help you if you have the address.”
Yeah, I bet you would. Out Loud he murmured, “He gave it to me and I seem to have misplaced it. The person who died is an Estelle DuPont.” He gave her his most charming and hopeful smile.
“Oh, Mrs. DuPont was such a nice woman. I knew her through the poetry club. I can tell you how to find the house.”
“That’s really kind of you.”
She showed him on the map and described the house.
“Thank you so much, Mrs…”
“Turner. Mabel Turner.”
“Well, I appreciate your help, Mabel. I’ll drop off the flowers. Too bad about Mrs. DuPont passing away.”
She reached for a tissue under the counter and daintily wiped a tear. “We all loved her. I’m sure the family will appreciate the flowers.”
On the way to his car he congratulated himself for his cleverness. Stupid woman. She didn’t even know me and just handed me the information.
He found a Motel Six and got a room for the weekend, asking for something quiet away from the street. They gave him a room at the very back of the motel which pleased him. No need to be conspicuous.
In fifteen minutes he was cruising slowly by the house, noting a big Ford Expedition and a Toyota Camry parked in the driveway. Lights were on in the house. Someone was home. He’d just case the house and figure out the best way to get in.
He parked down the street where he could see the driveway of the house and considered what to do. Suddenly he sat up. Two women were coming out of the house. He peered through a small pair of binoculars.
They stood at the front door as one woman locked it. As they turned and he saw their faces, he whistled softly. A couple of lookers, mid-twenties, and one was his cousin. This job might be more pleasant than he anticipated. He chewed on his lower lip. Was there anyone else, maybe someone still in the house? There was only one way to find out. He watched the two women get in the Camry and turn out of the driveway. They were going to pass him so he made himself inconspicuous behind his map. Fortunately they were busy talking and didn’t even look his way. So far, so good.
He didn’t have much time. With a sweep of his binoculars, he swore out loud. A small sign indicated a security system on the house. Had the women turned it on? He took a pair of pliers out of his bag and some other tools. Pulling on a thin kaki rain slicker, he ambled down towards the house. To his delight, when he approached the house, he realized that the position of the big SUV partially hid him from the street. He scrutinized the front of the house and listened for the sound of a radio or television. Nothing. He checked the foundation of the house, following the wires to their destinations. Anyone watching would think he was just a workman perhaps, inspecting damage from the rain.
He surveyed the nearby homes which appeared to be unoccupied vacation rentals, no sign of other cars or people. The house to his right had a light on inside, but the rain was his ally. No one would be outside. After walking quietly around the DuPont house and listening carefully, he felt satisfied the house was unoccupied. There was a back door and a thin wire fence he could get over. It always paid to have an escape route.
He debated a long moment and then pulling on a pair of rubber gloves, began to carefully jimmy the front door lock. It was an old door and an old lock and opened easily with hardly a sign of forced entry.
The alarm box was to the left of the front door. With his clippers ready to cut the wire, he stopped, open-mouthed. The light configuration told him the niece hadn’t armed the system. How lucky could he get? He stashed the clippers in his back pocket with a flourish and quietly re-locked the front door. Slipping off his raincoat, he folded it carefully with the lining on the outside. He couldn’t take the chance of it dripping on the carpet. He also pulled off his boots before entering the living room. His stocking feet wouldn’t leave marks on the carpet. He pulled several paper towels off the roll in the kitchen and folding them on the kitchen counter, carefully placed his boots on the towels. He laid the rolled up raincoat in the sink. Satisfied that no water or mud had touched the kitchen floor or carpet he’d crossed, he turned to his task. Beginning with the living room, he searched the house systematically, carefully putting things back in the same place he found them.
Because the windows in the family room were large, he ducked down so he wouldn’t be visible to anyone passing by. No sign of a safe anywhere. The house wasn’t that large. He felt sure he’d have found it if it existed. As his frustration mounted, he felt like throwing something but didn’t dare. There had to be no sign he’d been in the house.
Searching the hallway where the forced air heating unit stood, he poked everywhere he could think of. He tapped walls for hidden spaces behind the panels. He realized to his chagrin that much of the house was single wall construction. No room for anything there.
His watch showed he’d been in the house about an hour and a half. Deke, old man, you’re pushing your Luck. You’d better get yourself out of here. He scratched his head. Could the combination be to a locker somewhere? What in blazes did the combination go to?
He’d just entered the alcove off the living room when he spied a trap door in the ceiling over the small couch.
“Aha.”
He was looking for something to climb on when he heard tires scrunch on the gravel driveway. They were back.
He swore under his breath and glanced across the room at the living room windows. They had their backs to the house, getting something out of the car. He’d have to use another way out. He hurried into the kitchen and unlocked the back door. Picking up his boots carefully, he wadded up the paper towels and stuffed them down in the tall kitchen wastebasket. He didn’t have time to put the boots or raincoat on. He grabbed his wadded raincoat from the sink and tucked it under his arm. The back door wouldn’t open. He swore and flipped the hook at the top, almost falling out the door in his haste. He pulled the kitchen and screen doors closed behind him and hurried around the side of the house.
His feet and clothing were getting soaked and he hastily put on his raincoat, slipping his wet feet into the boots. The rain came down harder and he shivered. He hoped it would wash away any footprints but it was too dark to see. He moved cautiously to the corner of the house near the driveway and turned his head to listen.
“Do you want regular baked potatoes or twice baked potatoes?”
The other girl laughed. “Unless you want to make them, I’ll pass on the fancy potatoes. How about just baking these?”
“That’s fine with me. Let’s get out of this weather.”
Deke vaulted over the low wire fence and hurried to the back of the vacant lot next door. After cutting through the yard of one of the deserted vacation homes, he walked down t
he street to his car, clear of the house.
As he drove past it, he glanced at the house with distain. Stupid women, they’d never even know he’d been there.
Chapter Seventeen
Laura set the bags of groceries on the counter and searched under the sink for a flat dish to marinate the steaks in. As she stood up, she spotted a small chunk of mud on the counter.
That’s strange. How would mud get on the kitchen counter? She shrugged and went began to unload the groceries. Beth came into the kitchen having hung up the raincoats and umbrellas.
“Whew, I think we left the heater on too high. Mind if I open the kitchen door for a little cool air?”
“Good idea. Don’t forget the hook at the top of the door after you unlock it.”
“You mean the hook that’s already unhooked?” Beth raised her eyebrows. “You’re slipping, girlfriend; you also forgot to lock the back door.”
Laura turned and looked up at the hook and then at the door. “That was the last thing I did before we left. I always lock the back door. I remember having trouble with the lock on the screen too.”
“Maybe you just thought you locked the back door.”
“No, Beth, I distinctly remember locking the screen door first, then the back door and putting the hook in place at the top of the door.” Laura picked up the small ball of mud on the kitchen counter. “Beth, there’s mud here from something.”
Beth sighed. “All right, it was the butler in the pantry with the muddy shoes.”
“This is no joke, Beth. I had a strange feeling yesterday before we prayed.”
“A strange feeling? Like what?”
“Like a sense of foreboding.”
Beth’s shrugged. “Well if it would make you feel better, let’s search the house to see if anything is missing. Then you’ll know.”
Laura opened the back door and peered out into the patio. Nothing seemed amiss, but little could be seen in the gathering darkness. She closed the screen and back doors and this time, made sure they were firmly locked.
They went room to room, but nothing seemed missing. No evidence of anyone rifling the contents of the drawers. As far as Laura could tell, all was untouched. Should she call the police? What would she tell them? That she just thought someone had been in the house but nothing seemed to be missing? In her mind she could see the pained look on the policemen’s face. They’d think they had some female nut on their hands. She could be imagining things. Maybe she really hadn’t locked the back door. She shook her head as they went back to the kitchen.
The two women set the incident aside and worked companionably to prepare dinner. Beth washed the potatoes and greased them for the oven. As she wiped her hands on a paper towel and dropped it into the tall wastebasket, the safety clasp on her watch broke.
“Oh, Drat.”
“What’s the matter?”
“My watch dropped into the trash.”
“Just a minute,” Laura put the napkins down and got a newspaper from the basket near the fireplace. “We’ll just dump it out on this.”
They began to pull trash out of the container and Laura grabbed a wad of paper towels. She started to set it aside when some pieces of mud dropped from the wad onto the newspaper. She stared at the wad and then slowly opened it and spread it out. She took a quick breath as she stared at the unmistakable imprint of two large wet shoes and more mud with some tiny pieces of gravel.
“Beth, look at this.”
At the panic in Laura’s voice, Beth stopped her own search and looked at the paper towels. “What?”
“Someone set muddy shoes on these paper towels. Look, here’s some of the mud I found on the counter.”
“Good grief, Laura, I thought you were imagining things.”
Beth found her watch and they threw the rest of the trash back, except for the offending paper towels.
Laura put her hand on her erratically beating heart. “Beth, I’m scared. What if whoever broke in comes back?”
“What if it’s your uncle?”
“Oh Beth, I don’t know.”
They went all around the house, locking every door and checking the windows. Laura turned the alarm system on inside mode so they could walk about the house but not open any doors that weren’t already open. They stood in the kitchen staring at the muddy paper towels again.
Laura forced down the panic. “I want to call someone but I don’t know who to call. Besides, if I do think of someone to call, what would I tell them?”
They were silent a moment, thinking. Suddenly Laura reached for the phone.
Beth raised her eyebrows.
“I think we need to call the police. It’s what they do, isn’t it?”
“Good idea.”
Laura spoke with the dispatcher who assured her that an officer would be there shortly. Relieved, she and Beth sat on the couch in front of the fire to wait, neither concerned about dinner.
The officer arrived and while Laura turned off the alarm, Beth opened the door. At around six feet four, the man on the doorstep looked like he’d played fullback on a football team. Beth had to tilt her head back to look up at him. She smiled back at his appraising stare. A cough from Laura broke the spell and Beth stepped back and let him in.
“Ted Daniels, Big Bear Police.”
Laura stepped forward and extended her hand.
“I’m Laura Kingsley. You’ve already met my friend, Beth.”
At the moment the young officer seemed more interested in Beth than what he came for. Laura cleared her throat.
“As I said on the phone, we think someone has been in the house.”
Suddenly Officer Daniels became all business and from the size of him, Laura felt she and Beth were in capable hands.
He examined the alarm box carefully. “Did you have the alarm system on? No wires have been cut.”
Laura folded her arms protectively. “No, I didn’t think I needed to. We just went to get a manicure and pick up something for dinner at the market.”
He shook his head, “Ma’am, it only takes a burglar a few moments to get into a house. In less than five minutes they can have your valuables and be gone.”
Beth stepped in. “We understand that, Officer, what we are puzzled about is the fact that whoever it is didn’t take anything. We checked and nothing seemed to be missing.”
He studied the paper toweling with the dried mud. “You say you found this in the kitchen wastebasket?”
“Yes.” She explained about Beth’s watch.
Laura moved her hand across the kitchen counter. “I found a small wad of mud on the counter earlier and wondered about it but when we found the paper towels with mud on them we became worried.”
“May I use your phone, ma’am? I think I need to call the Captain. There might be fingerprints. Also, there’s the possibility that whoever it might come back. Since nothing appears to be taken, perhaps your burglar didn’t find what he was looking for. As a matter of fact, you might have interrupted his search when you came home.”
Beth’s eyes widened. “You mean he could have been in the house when we got home?”
Laura thought back to Ginny’s information. Was it Uncle Ray again?
Officer Daniels went on, “That’s my guess. You surprised him, he grabs his shoes, stuffs the paper towels in the trash and slips out the back door. He’s clever enough to put his shoes on a paper towel so he wouldn’t track muddy prints through the house. He didn’t appear to be in a hurry. He’s a professional. If nothing appears to be taken then it’s my guess he’s looking for something in particular.”
Laura shook her head. “I don’t know what that would be. My aunt lived very simply. She didn’t have anything you would consider of great value, and neither do I. Unless there’s something else about my aunt I don’t know about.
Officer Daniels made the call and within ten minutes, another police car pulled into the driveway. Officer Daniels went out to talk to his superior and then brought him into the house.
Laura told him everything she could remember.
Captain Petrone examined the front door. “Might have been jimmied, but very carefully. This guy isn’t an amateur. I’ll take a look outside.”
Office Patrone checked the back door and stepped down into the patio, shining his light on the wet cement. Then he went around the side of the house. In a few moments he came back, a satisfied smile on his face.
“It was a he all right, prints left in the mud. Good thing you have dirt paths instead of gravel back there. He must have put on his shoes in the patio and then jumped over the fence. There are signs someone landed on the other side of the wire fence. The grass in the lot next door would obscure any more footprints, but my guess is he went through another yard to get away.”
Laura shuddered. “What should we do?
The Captain eyed her sternly. “Turn the alarm system on.”
Laura and Beth glanced at each other. “But you said he didn’t cut any wires. What if he came back and cut the wires?”
Captain Petrone considered the question. “I’d check with your security service. There’s a new system that will trigger an alarm in their office if the system suddenly goes dead. Maybe you have that feature.”
Laura considered that. “You mean that even if the wires are cut it triggers the alarm?”
“Yes, ma’am, a silent one in their office.”
Beth shuddered. “I’m not sure I’m going to sleep a wink tonight. This is scary.”
Officer Daniels smiled at her, “Don’t you worry, we’ll be on extra patrol in your neighborhood tonight. I’ll tell my men to keep an eye out for anyone suspicious.”
Officer Petrone wrote down all the information he’d gathered. “Do you want to check for fingerprints, Ms. Kingsley?”
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