The arguments pro and con were still rumbling through his brain as Mina’s BMW pulled into the driveway. It wasn’t exactly a luxury car, but he supposed a chauffeur wouldn’t look out of place tonight when the estate would be crawling with valets.
Mina handed over the wheel as soon as he and Linda got in. The older woman’s eyes gleamed with anticipation.
His wife slid into the back seat without a word. After fastening her seat belt, she sat with her fake-fur-covered hands clasped tightly across her abdomen. Like Mina, she kept her mask pushed up atop her head, leaving her face bare.
As he backed out of the driveway, Wick said, “Linda, you don’t have to go through with this.”
“We don’t have any better ideas and you know it,” she said.
“You are very brave!” Mina reached back and patted Linda’s furry arm.
Wick decided not to debate the matter further. They couldn’t stay hidden forever, and if there was any evidence to be found, Granville’s safe was the most likely spot.
But if he heard any shouts or alarm bells, he was going in there to rescue his wife.
Chapter Eight
Unlike the newer estates in the northern part of the city, Granville Lyme’s home was set close to downtown Inland, just a few miles past the modest area where Janet lived. As they drove between rows of old-fashioned California bungalows, Linda could hear a band playing a jazzy number, the amplified sound drifting through the night.
A short distance farther, the smaller homes yielded to a tall wrought-iron fence that marked the beginning of the five-acre Lyme property. Although Linda had visited the place many times before, it looked different tonight, with lights glowing in the trees. She was acutely aware of being an intruder.
Her throat felt so dry she could hardly speak. Despite the panda costumes, wouldn’t Mina’s distinctive accent give them away? And even in the dark, it was hard to believe a cap drawn low on his forehead would be enough to shield Wick’s identity in the car.
Ahead of them, a Jaguar turned into the driveway, waited while a guard checked tickets and then proceeded on its way. As they rolled forward, Linda pulled down her mask and noticed that Mina was doing the same.
The guard glanced at their tickets, smiled at their costumes and waved them through. He hadn’t even noticed Wick.
They swept along the driveway and circled in front of the house, where Wick stopped to let them off. “I’ll wait over there.”
He indicated a spot at the foot of the turnaround, clear of the jammed parking area. He might have to move the car if an oversize limousine needed to exit, but at least they would have a straight shot at a getaway if they needed one.
“Excellent!” Mina said as she joined Linda on the walkway.
The two women walked up the broad steps. Amid the disorientingly bright lights and the blare of music from behind the house, Linda battled a sense of unreality.
Only a few days earlier, she had visited here as Avery’s fiancee. Now she was returning as—what? An enemy?
Her stomach did flip-flops, and then she realized the loud music must have awakened the baby. Linda barely checked the impulse to touch her abdomen. She didn’t want to call attention to her condition, which otherwise might not be evident in the panda suit.
Both the double front doors and the French doors at the rear of the vaulted entryway had been thrown open. The two women sauntered through, past a life-size classical statue of a javelin thrower, and emerged at the top of the steps overlooking the rear lawn.
The first thing Linda noticed was the band, performing in a spray of spotlights beneath a canopy the size of a circus tent. Around it surged a sea of motion, as if the landscape were writhing.
Hundreds of bodies filled the space, some dancing, others shifting from cluster to cluster like bees doing their best to collect pollen. In this case, she suspected, the pollen was either gossip or recognition. Being seen at Granville’s ball was a mark that one had arrived in Inland society.
Some of the costumes were as simple as a funny hat or a Western-style vest, but there was also an abundance of Victorian dresses and Elizabethan ruffs. The local theater company rented costumes to raise funds, Linda recalled.
Then, returning her attention to the people nearby, she nearly gasped aloud. Descending the stairs beside Mina, she had come almost face-to-face with Avery.
As planned, he wore the custom-made tuxedo from their wedding, with a Lone Ranger-style black mask half-covering his face. Linda imagined she could feel those gray eyes piercing her, and she bit back the impulse to pull away. Instead, she forced herself to look directly at him, and saw that he hadn’t even noticed her.
With a grim expression unlike his usual affability, Avery stood beside his father, greeting some of their more prominent guests. He looked young and vulnerable, and Linda felt a pang of guilt.
Her disappearance must be worrying him terribly. Her parents, too, must be suffering, she thought, grateful that they weren’t likely to join tonight’s throng. She didn’t think she could keep silent if she ran into them.
Seeing Avery strengthened her resolve to settle matters as quickly as possible. She cast a sidelong gaze at Mina, but her companion was heading for the refreshment table.
How could they eat without removing their masks? Linda wondered with sudden alarm. Mina must have had the same thought, because she stopped partway there.
Gazing up at the hand-painted banners rustling in a light breeze, she pretended to admire the decorations. Or perhaps she really was caught up in the glamour of the evening.
Around them, people chattered and nibbled hors d’oeuvres from tiny plates. Several smiled at the panda costumes.
A short distance away, Linda noticed a striking couple, the man lean and well-built, the woman slightly taller in high heels. With her glittery black dress, upswept hair and black-and-white fur cloak, she could have doubled for Cruella de Vil, although Linda doubted that had been the point of the costume.
Her companion, wearing a white top hat and black cutaway coat, favored the women with a crooked smile. With a jolt, Linda realized she was staring at Pierre D’Amboise, the man Wick had followed the previous day. Quickly, she averted her gaze.
It was almost too noisy to talk, but she shouted into Mina’s ear, “Should we go back inside?”
The panda nodded. “Yes, but not yet. Watch for other women going up the steps. We will pretend to seek the powder room, like them.”
“You’re really good at this,” Linda said admiringly.
“Thank you.” She could sense Mina’s smile beneath the fur. “I think about it all last night. You know, what if this and what if that. So many possibilities!”
For the first time, Linda was glad she’d trusted Mina. Then she remembered a point that, in the excitement, had escaped her. “Didn’t you say you had a heart condition? What if we have to run for it?”
Her companion shrugged. “It has troubled me for many years. A few months ago, I thought the end had come, but look, here I am! The worst thing, Linda, would be to act like a dead person while I am alive. And tonight, this is the most fun I had in a long time.”
Two ladies in antebellum dresses, one of whom Linda recognized as a city councilwoman, swished toward the house. She and Mina followed at a leisurely distance.
Avery and Granville were still standing by the foot of the stairs. To her dismay, Linda recognized the people talking with them as Janet’s parents, Felice and Armand Capek, and, leaning on a cane, Janet’s great-uncle Yuri. There was no sign of Janet herself, but then, she was probably working at the police department.
All three Capeks were about the same height, a few inches taller than Linda. Despite their costume tiaras and capes, Felice and Armand looked nothing like royalty. Their squarish faces bespoke peasant ancestry, and years of hard work running a chain of bakeries.
Yuri, as if still under the influence of the harsh dictatorship under which he’d lived for so long, never smiled. Now he regarded the passing pa
ndas with the same harsh scrutiny he must have applied in his former occupation as a customs inspector.
Mina clutched Linda’s arm as if to steady her beneath his glare. “Bounce like a funny bear,” whispered the older woman, and the two of them frolicked up the stairs with a lightness that Linda was far from feeling.
When they reached the entryway, Linda saw a security guard directing the city councilwoman and her companion down a hallway to the guest bathroom. In this direction, she knew, lay the formal dining room and salon. The library was upstairs in the same wing.
The pandas sauntered after the two women. There was no guard stationed farther down the hall, thank goodness, and once the other ladies entered the bathroom, they found themselves mercifully alone.
Linda navigated around a corner and through a small side corridor to the elevator. It was used primarily by the kitchen staff to carry the occasional meal upstairs.
“If someone asks,” Mina said while they rode up to the second story, “the bathroom was full and we are looking for another.”
“Right.” Thank goodness one of them was considering all the angles. Linda was too uneasy to do anything but take things one step at a time.
Although the baby had quieted, her stomach had taken on a dark, queasy feel. She suspected it came from tension rather than hormones.
On the top floor, they emerged into another side corridor. They stopped and listened. After a minute, Linda heard the thud of footsteps on carpet in the main upstairs hallway.
Valuable etchings and a few paintings by noted artists adorned the rooms, Linda knew. With so many strangers on the premises, it wasn’t surprising there should be a guard on patrol, but the discovery increased her edginess.
Mina insisted on waiting for some time after the footsteps had passed. Then, with a nod of her panda head, she got them moving again. The other woman looked so comical that, despite her tension, Linda smiled inside her own costume.
It took only a few twists and turns before they reached the heavy carved door of the library. As she reached for the knob, Linda feared for one tense moment that it might be locked.
Instead, the portal swung open silently on well-oiled hinges. The smell of old leather touched with pipe tobacco—although Granville had given up smoking years ago—ushered them into the oversize chamber.
In the glare of artificial light through the window, the floor-to-ceiling bookshelves loomed like a setting from a Vincent Price movie. A massive couch and Granville’s great oak desk hulked menacingly.
Mina raised her panda mask. “Where is the safe?”
Removing hers, Linda felt the blessed coolness of the air against her heated cheeks. “Over here.”
She indicated one of the bookcases. It fit seamlessly with the others, but when she pressed one particular volume, the entire section swung out, revealing a hidden nook.
“Wonderful!” Mina chortled, ushering her inside.
Linda suppressed the urge to switch on the chamber’s overhead illumination. They had only a slim view of the rest of the library, but she didn’t dare close the bookcase entirely. “Do you think the light could be seen from outside the house?”
“We should not risk finding out.” From a pouch inside her costume, Mina produced a flashlight. After sweeping the beam around to inspect the nook, she trained it on the safe.
It was a rectangular metal box, built into the wall. A recessed plate held the handle and a combination lock. It seemed completely ordinary, and utterly forbidden.
“Have you seen Mr. Lyme open the lock?” asked Mrs. Barash. “Think! Something might stick in your mind.”
Granville had made no attempt to hide from Linda when he worked it; in fact, he had bragged about its sturdiness prior to removing an heirloom necklace that was to be her wedding present. “I think the first number is an eight.”
“Let me try! How exciting!” Mina turned the knob until there came a slight click. “You are right!”
Linda didn’t remember any more, but the address of the Lyme Company began with an eight. She gave the number to Mina, who tried it without success.
Outside, the band launched into a rendition of “Hello, Dolly.” As a soprano sang lustily, Linda realized someone from the art museum had written a parody for the occasion, entitled “Hello, Dali.”
This was no time to get distracted by amusing lyrics. Searching her memory, she came up with one of the Lyme Company’s telephone numbers that also began with an eight, but it didn’t work, either.
“You are too tense,” Mina said. “Relax! There is a number floating in your mind. Let it come to the surface.”
That was more easily said than done, but when she cleared her thoughts, Linda realized there was something tickling at her consciousness. “Avery’s birth date!” she said. “He was born in August!”
She couldn’t remember which day of the month, but she did know the year. Outside, the soprano had finished to applause by the time Mina worked through the possibilities and the safe swiveled open.
By the narrow beam, Linda could see two rolled, bluecovered packets, a jewelry box and a file folder. Handing her the flashlight with a caution to keep it steady, Mina examined the items. She removed the file folder’s only contents, a single sheet of paper, and tucked it into her hidden bag.
“What is it?” Linda whispered.
“Some kind of list, in code. We will have to examine it later.”
The packets turned out to be Granville’s and Avery’s wills, and were returned to the safe along with the jewelry box. With relief, Linda watched the older woman shut the safe. She couldn’t wait to get out of here.
As she turned to exit the nook, the low rumble of voices reached her. It sounded like two or three men in the hallway, heading in this direction. Too stunned to think clearly, Linda froze.
“We must hide!” From inside the nook, Mina tugged at the bookcase, but it didn’t budge. “How do you close it?”
You had to be outside, Linda realized. “Stay here!” She stepped into the main room, pushed the bookcase shut and hurled herself behind the couch.
An instant later, the door opened and someone switched on the light. Linda shut her eyes against the painful brilliance and fought to quiet her breathing.
To her sensitized ears, the men sounded like a herd of cattle. The couch groaned as someone settled onto it. In the corner, the chair behind Granville’s desk creaked as if it, too, was occupied, and someone else was pacing across the floor with heavy footsteps.
“What’s going on, Harve?” Granville’s baritone boomed from the corner. “As you can see, we’re rather busy tonight.”
“I’m sorry to take you away from your guests, but I wanted you to hear this from me before it hits the ten o’clock news,” said the pacing man. Linda realized he must be Harvey Merkel, the police captain.
“Dear God. You haven’t found Linda’s body?” Avery spoke from the couch, so close she could feel the vibrations,
“No. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to give you that impression.” A solidly built man, Harvey had a level tone of voice that rarely showed emotion, but she heard a note of sympathy now.
“Then what is it?” Granville demanded.
“We’ve found evidence at the scene of Sarah Walters’s murder to indicate Wick Farley was there,” Harvey said.
The couch springs jounced with Avery’s reaction. “You mean, he’s alive?”
“He’s not only alive, he’s our number one suspect.”
WITH MORE AND MORE CARS arriving, the valets kept glancing in Wick’s direction as if willing him to take the BMW for a spin and make room for someone else. He pretended not to notice.
He just hoped one of them wouldn’t come over and talk to him. Even with the cap pulled low on his forehead, he felt much too vulnerable.
The house appeared even grander, with so much bustle and glare, than it had when he’d first visited here as Avery’s college roommate. Even so, Wick had been intimidated but had refused to show it.
&n
bsp; Not that his grandparents had been poor. He’d lived a middle-class existence, except for the fact that his caretakers were hired nannies who rarely stayed more than a year or two. By the time he reached fourteen, he was left alone, sometimes for weeks at a time.
What he had envied about Avery’s life were not the vast rooms and expensive cars but his closeness to his mother, and even the gruff but regular presence of his father. When Mrs. Lyme died, though, and he saw the grief that ripped through Avery, Wick had wondered if love was worth that much pain.
Thinking about last night and the passion that had swept him, he knew that it was. He only hoped he never had to survive the death of the person he loved most.
Another check of his watch showed that the women had been gone nearly an hour. Had they been prevented from reaching the library? If only one of them would come out and let him know what was happening!
There hadn’t been any ruckus, so Wick doubted the pair had been caught. He had seen Harvey Merkel pull up in an unmarked car a few minutes ago, but the policeman had strolled inside with no sign of urgency.
Wick itched to venture into the house himself. The idea was crazy, of course. His chauffeur’s uniform might make him fit into a costume ball but, for all her planning, Mina hadn’t thought to provide him with a mask.
If he left his post, he not only risked being caught, he also risked fouling up Mina and Linda’s mission. Much as it annoyed him, he would have to hang loose here until they showed up.
Unless, of course, he saw any sign that they might be in danger.
“YOU SUSPECT Wick Farley of killing that woman?” Granville asked.
“I don’t believe it.” That was Avery’s voice.
“There were no signs of anyone else in or near the apartment, except the landlady, and we have no reason to suspect her,” Harvey said. “We found quite a few fingerprints around the apartment. Some belonged to the victim. We ran the others through the state’s computer system, and it made a positive ID of Wick Farley.”
And The Bride Vanishes Page 10