by Mary Bowers
“Well, Rosie, Poppy, your e-mail is pretty detailed,” Lily began, as the twins continued to shyly avoid looking at Teddy. “But would you mind starting at the top and telling us everything you can think of anyway?”
“Not at all,” the one on the left said.
In a perfectly-timed cross-talk session, where Teddy and Lily turned their heads every few seconds and the twins rattled along like relay racers, weaving the story without ever once talking over one another, they told them the whole story as they knew it.
“And the only odd thing I can think of that Mr. D-D doesn’t know about yet is the way Mrs. P took it. After that experience on the third floor, we forgot to mention it to him. Mrs. P definitely didn’t like the idea of having Mr. D-D on the job. Did you notice it too, Poppy?”
“I sure did. She didn’t like it one little bit.”
“And nobody’s happy about The Missus and old Miss Frieda.”
“But everybody likes to talk about it,” Lily said.
“We’re all concerned,” Rosie said. “You can’t say it’s none of our business. It is our business, them being our customers and all.”
“We look out for our customers. Some of them would be dead now,” she added, without explaining. Teddy did a double-take, but was beyond asking questions.
The twins finally wound to a stop and looked at their audience, who were against the backs of their chairs, exhausted.
“I’m sure you look upon your customers as personal friends,” Teddy said warmly. “You two are just like that, aren’t you?”
Lily watched, bemused, as Teddy’s charm turned the beefy pair of twins into a couple of blushing little girls. And nobody blushes like a redhead.
Porter had long since fallen asleep with his soaking chin resting on Poppy’s bare foot. She had been deeply honored, and though her leg had fallen asleep, she wouldn’t move it.
Taylor’s SUV had been in the driveway when Ed came out of Parker’s house, so she was inside with Bastet doing whatever people do with cats. It was time for his cat lesson, and he steeled himself.
But before he could open the door, he heard a voice behind him.
“How’s Parker?” Dan Ryder asked, coming across the street toward him.
“He’s all right.”
“Have they found Peggy?”
“Not yet.”
Dan gazed toward the beach with his thousand-yard stare. “They’ve got the Coast Guard out, and the cops are going to all the beachfront houses along here, asking if anybody saw anything. Where she could be beats me. She’s not one of those people who are always walking on the beach.”
“No.” He thought about Peggy’s manuscript and decided not to mention it.
Dan shifted his shoulders uneasily beneath his plain white tee shirt. “Bad day to be alone. I’m antsy. Want to take a walk on the beach with me?”
Ed glanced at his house, thought for a moment, and finally said, “Sure.”
“Do you think Parker would like to come?”
“He won’t leave the house. He gave Detective Bruno his land-line number without thinking. He left a message for him, giving him his cell phone number, but he won’t leave until he’s sure Bruno got it. He’s waiting to see if he’ll call. Before we go, I just have to check in with my cat sitter.”
“You have a cat?”
“I think so.”
He walked away quickly as Dan studied him from behind, thinking he sure was an odd little guy.
They strode the walkover in a state of silence that was natural for Dan, but very uncomfortable for Ed. Once they were on the beach, near the waterline, they headed north. Desperate to break the silence, Ed felt like he was getting to the bursting point when Dan quietly said, “You want to tell me what this is all about?”
After saying, “I wish I knew,” Ed proceeded to give Dan a comprehensive brief of his investigation so far, with the exclusion of Peggy’s book.
After listening to Ed’s convoluted story, Dan was satisfied that his squirrely neighbor didn’t really know anything.
Lily and Teddy stayed at the twins’ condo much longer than they had intended to, and gradually the twins relaxed and were able to look into Teddy’s hypnotic eyes without keeling over. Some cunning instinct led Rosie to suggest that Porter might want to take a walk on the beach, rather than directly asking if Lily or Teddy did.
Porter didn’t know what Rosie was suggesting, precisely, but it had included the word “walk.” He was always ready for a walk. When he popped up onto his paws, wiggled all over and barked a shrill one, Teddy decided that Porter did, indeed, want to see the beach, possibly to further the investigation. He was, after all, The Ghost-Sniffing Dog. That was all it took.
“I guess we’re going to the beach,” Lily said.
There were signs at the entrance to the beach declaring that “All Dogs Must Be Leashed.” Some dogs actually were. Porter being the problem child he was, Lily kept a tight hold on his leash, half-running behind him most of the time like she had a bull by the tail. Rosie and Poppy had become comfortable with Teddy by then, and were gushing. Teddy was pleased.
They walked to the south, talking, laughing, basking in the sun and reveling in the ocean breeze, and in Porter’s case, snuffling at flotsam between bouts of a kind of air dance.
After about half an hour, Lily suddenly realized that they would have to walk another half hour to get back to the car again, and time was ticking away.
“Listen guys, we’d better turn around,” she said.
“Oh, just a little farther,” Rosie said. When they’d left the condo, Rosie had popped a little spring bracelet onto her wrist with the door key on it, and now they could tell them apart.
“That’s Santorini,” Poppy said, pointing to a walkover about half a block away.
“Well, well, is that Edson Darby-Deaver I see?” Teddy said.
“Now Tedders, you behave,” Lily said quietly.
“I believe it is,” the twins said simultaneously.
“And that’s Dan Ryder with him,” Poppy added in a tone of voice that made Lily take another look at the second man.
Another hunk of beefcake. It was good for Teddy, she believed, to be reminded from time to time that he wasn’t the only pretty thing around for the ladies to look at.
“Let’s go,” she said. “We have to let Ed know we’re here sometime.”
And, she added mentally, it was better to do it when other people were around to keep him from bursting into tears.
Ed came to a sudden halt, blinking. He took his prescription sunglasses off, cleaned them with the bottom of his shirt, put them back on again and stared hard to the north.
“What?” Dan said.
“I think I’m having a vision. A bad one. Lack of sleep can bring on hallucinations, you know.”
Dan looked around, but among all the people scattered along the beach, the closest were two college-age girls, carrying surfboards and heading for the water. That was a very good vision, in his opinion. Even the fat lady in the folding chair reading a book wasn’t all that bad. With her big green-and-white striped sun umbrella and her enormous, skirted one-piece, she made a nice snapshot of life on the beach. He decided maybe Ed really was having hallucinations.
So he was surprised when he realized that a group of actual, living people was approaching them, and apparently, they knew Ed.
Still, he thought, looking at the trim young woman being dragged along the sand by a bulldog, the vision wasn’t all bad. Then he saw the redheads. It was the damn twins. Still, everyone in Santorini knew they lived just up A1A. They all saw them on the beach occasionally.
Then he recognized Teddy Force and understood why Ed was fussing. Even Dan, who didn’t watch TV, was aware of Teddy Force. He was one of those pop celebrities who seem to seep into your pores from the air around you. And according to the twins, Ed’s working relationship with Teddy was tense, if not hostile.
By that time, Dan was shaking hands with the man himself and sizing
him up.
Teddy Force was an unusually tall man and he worked out. He was also very pleased with himself. Dan could have killed him with one quick gesture, but Teddy didn’t know that. The pseudo-celebrity hot dog was obviously enjoying the fact that his own muscles had more definition, and he was taller.
Dan dismissed him as irrelevant. The lady was the brains of the outfit. He figured that out right away. Dan became very interested in finding out what Lily knew about the events at Santorini. For that reason, he turned on the charm in his own quiet way, but it turned out she knew even less than Ed did. They hadn’t heard about Dolores Brinker yet.
“She’s dead?” the members of Teddy’s group all said, in various ways and out of sync. Even the dog looked horrified.
Ed was nodding. “And Peggy Peavey is missing. Another neighbor,” he explained to Lily.
They sorted it out at last, and Dan found himself struggling to keep a straight face as Teddy informed Ed he would be staying with him until they solved the mystery, as he termed it. As lightweight as he had judged Teddy to be, Dan wasn’t worried about him.
Ed made helpless gestures and said, “No, you can’t,” while Teddy talked over him, saying he would be needing the master bedroom, since there were three of them and only one of him. Of course Ed would understand.
“No, no,” Ed said helplessly.
“You pretty much live in your office anyway, right little buddy?” Teddy said in a way that would have drawn a quick, disabling punch if he had said it to Dan.
“He has a guest room,” Poppy supplied. “He can sleep in there. We keep it nice and tidy.”
“Taylor slept in there last night.”
“Well, then we’ll just come right over and set it all to rights,” Rosie said eagerly.
“I’ll take care of it,” Lily said. “It’s the least I can do.”
“Right,” Teddy said. “Lily will take care of it.”
“Well, if you insist,” Rosie said, obviously disappointed. “Why don’t you guys just go on home with Mr. D-D now, and he can drive one of you back to pick up the car and stuff at The Sand Castle? We’ll just walk back home. Don’t worry about us.”
Teddy grinned. “That’d be great.”
“No, no,” Ed said to the ocean, which didn’t pay any more attention to him than anybody else did.
Chapter 15
“They’ve got their nerve,” Taylor said. “Why don’t you just throw them out?”
She was lounging in a chair facing Ed’s desk. They were in his office with the door closed. Bastet was sitting on the windowsill, tracking the movements of a dragonfly with quick little head turns. She was acting like a cat for once, and Ed found it reassuring.
“I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“Because I’m me,” he said helplessly.
“Well, at least he’s harmless. He can’t possibly get in our way because he doesn’t know what he’s doing.” After a pause, in a changed voice, she said, “So, tell me about your neighbor, Dan.”
Ed blinked. “What about him?”
“What’s his story? Does he have a wife? He doesn’t wear a wedding ring. What does he do for a living?”
Actually, Ed suddenly realized, he knew absolutely nothing about Dan Ryder. They didn’t see much of one another, and Ed didn’t like to pry. Dan had that thing about him that some men had which kept you from asking too many questions. Reluctant to admit that he didn’t know anything at all about someone who had lived across the street from him for five years, he said, “He lives alone.”
Taylor waited for more. When it was obvious Ed was about to change the subject, she said, “What else?”
Desperate, Ed resorted to repeating gossip from the twins. “I think he’s ex-military. He doesn’t talk about it, so he must have seen some bad stuff. One doesn’t ask.”
“I would. So . . . is he getting it on with the Claire chick? The one that found the body? Is she hot too? I haven’t seen her yet.”
“Really, Taylor!”
“I just like to know if a man’s available.”
“Really, Taylor! You have Michael.”
She was laughing. “I know. I’m happy. I don’t need a mystery man in my life. I just like to tickle you every now and then.”
“Really, Taylor,” he said again, but without any energy.
“So, are you really going to hang those paintings in here?” she asked. Ed had set the portraits on the floor, leaning against three different walls of the office. He couldn’t quite make himself put one behind him, but they would be left, right and center around the desk.
“It will help me to study them.”
Taylor shivered. “They’re creeping me out even more here than they did back in Dolores’s studio. Something’s not right about them.”
“Naturally.”
“No, you don’t get it. Something else. I can’t quite put my finger on it.”
They both turned their heads and stared at the closed office door as Teddy yelled, “Ed, I can’t find the laundry detergent and I’m giving Lily a load of clothes to do. Ed?”
“They have dirty laundry already?” he said in a hollow voice.
“Just give it to me,” they heard Lily say. “I’ve already washed the sheets. I know where everything is.”
Suddenly the door was hit by a battering ram. Ed nearly lost his glasses, but Taylor grinned radiantly and got up to open the door.
“Porter, baby!” she crooned, going to the floor to frisk around with the tap-dancing hunk of muscle and bristle. The dog’s tongue flopped around loosely, connecting with Taylor’s face and leaving wet froth here and there.
Ed watched the exhibition from his desk chair, his face expressionless.
“I’m going to bed,” he said.
“It’s about time,” Taylor told him. Porter had her pinned to the floor and was panting hotly into her ear. “I had a nap while I was home, but you’ve been awake for about three days now, haven’t you?”
“I fell asleep in Ben’s living room while we were waiting up for Dolores. He did too. We each got about three hours’ sleep before we heard a commotion out on Santorini Drive and went to see what it was. I’ve had three hours’ sleep in the last thirty-six hours, twenty-five minutes, approximately,” he said, looking at his atomic watch. “I’m beginning to see auras. Not because I’m psychic. I’m not. I’ve been tested. I have no mediumistic powers either. Ironic, isn’t it? Have I ever told you about the time I had my epidermal conductivity tested with a galvanometer, and was told that I wasn’t registering as a living thing? Rather amusing, because one only has to observe me closely to see that I am, in fact, very much alive.” He wiggled all ten of his fingers, as if to prove the point.
“Ed,” Taylor said, dodging Porter’s tongue, “go to bed.”
His eyes were hot. His head ached. His legs would not be still. His mind was actually more active than it had been at any other point in the last thirty-six hours, twenty-five minutes.
Ed lay in the guest bed, listening to the mayhem rolling like thunder through his bachelor home and trying to sleep. He had nearly dozed off once, but Teddy had banged on the door, apologized blithely, and asked where the nearest pizza joint was. Ed, who didn’t regard pizza as actual food, told him he didn’t know. When it came to default foods, Ed relied on peanut butter. His nutritional analysis had shown that peanut butter was all you really needed to survive.
He told Teddy to go away and tried to go to sleep, but he couldn’t. In the master bedroom he had custom-made block-out draperies that gave him absolute darkness. He’d paid a fortune for them, because so many of his investigations took place at night and he often slept during the day. But the curtains in the guest room let the sun come gaily in. They were pale blue pre-packaged panels from Target, and they left the room lit up like an operating theater.
His thoughts became bitter. He could hear his “guests” laughing together (apparently Taylor was staying for dinner) and he rolled onto his left side and p
ulled the sheet up over his head
Taylor’s questions about his neighbors had embarrassed him. How typical of her, he thought furiously, to ask probing questions about Dan, just because the man was good looking. And her remark earlier in the day about Dan getting Claire into bed had been just plain tasteless.
Although . . . .
He forgot he was trying to go to sleep and opened his eyes. They had seen Dan coming from Claire’s house around noon. She had found Dolores shortly after six that morning. Had Dan been with her, consoling her and then “getting her to bed” for five hours? (He subtracted approximately one hour for her to call the police, talk to the first responders, become increasingly hysterical, and try to avoid curious neighbors.)
He threw the sheet aside and flopped onto his back. It was really none of his business; Claire and Dan were consenting, socially unencumbered adults who could console one another for five continuous hours if they wished. Still, even if they had brought consolation to the giddy heights of ecstasy – five hours? As far as he was aware, Claire and Dan barely knew one another. Claire hadn’t lived in Santorini for long, and Dan was a loner. Ed found it difficult to imagine engaging in simple conversation for five hours, let alone more vigorous pursuits.
He sat up.
He smelled food.
The voices beyond his bedroom door became louder and brighter, and Porter began to bark.
Defeated, Ed got up and put his clothes back on. In the absence of anything more interesting, pizza would have to do. He hadn’t been to the grocery store in over a week, and there was nothing in the refrigerator but old milk and assorted condiments. He had plenty of good old P.B., of course, but he didn’t want the rest of them to see him eating it out of the jar with a spoon, which is what he usually did.
As soon as he walked into the dining room, conversation stopped. The three humans and the dog all looked at him guiltily.
“Gossiping again?” he asked as he brought a plate from the kitchen and looked into the pizza boxes doubtfully. One pie was heaped with every possible topping, the other was plain cheese. He took a slice of cheese and sat down.