Vi Agra Falls

by Mary Daheim

  “There is no such listing,” the soft and faintly English-accented operator’s voice replied after a long pause.

  Judith frowned. “How about a scuba-diving school?”

  There were at least two dozen. None of them suggested any connection to Johnny Agra. “Charter boats?” she asked.

  The operator recited several names and types. Judith still drew a blank. Frustrated, she thanked the operator and rang off. “I don’t know much about the Bahamas,” she admitted. “Are they off of Florida?”

  Renie put the mushroom slices into a bowl. “Yes. They’re close to Cuba, too.” She sat down at the computer. “Let’s take a look.” A few seconds later, she’d found one of the main sites. “Check it out.”

  Judith leaned over her cousin’s shoulder. “There are several islands. I wouldn’t know where to begin to find where Johnny lives.”

  “You figure he’s shacked up with some woman?”

  “It’d explain why he doesn’t have his own listing,” Judith said. She sighed. “Another dead end. Let’s put the appetizers out for the guests.”

  The Californians were already coming downstairs. As usual, they were in a good mood, happily chatting about their day’s adventures.

  Bob, the former army medic, stood on the bottom step and clapped his hands. “Kudos to you, Mrs. Flynn, for suggesting that Duck tour. It was terrific! That was really fun going out on the lake inside the city.”

  “Perfect timing,” his wife chimed in, “since it clouded up this afternoon. We spent the afternoon shopping downtown. My, but you have a lot of new buildings and construction going on around here.”

  “Too much,” Judith said, smiling ruefully. “It makes for difficult driving. Our transportation system is pathetic compared to other cities.”

  “But such a lovely downtown!” the other California wife declared. “Very clean, very nice. Oh!” Glancing at her husband, she laughed. “You’ll never guess who we saw there.”

  “Who?” Judith asked, balancing a platter of hors d’oeuvres.

  “Those people who stayed here,” wife number two replied. “Farmers, I think, from Iowa.”

  Judith stared at the couple. “The Griggses?”

  All four Californians nodded. “They must’ve bought new clothes,” Bob said. “At first we didn’t recognize them until we all stopped at a crosswalk. Funny folks, though. They acted as if they didn’t know us.”

  His wife snickered. “She did more than change her wardrobe. Edith and I figure she had a makeover while they were here.”

  Edith nodded. “A nice one, too, especially her hair.”

  Renie, who had taken the rest of the appetizers into the living room, joined the little group in the entry hall. “Who got redone?”

  “The Iowa farmers,” Judith said. “The ones who left suddenly.” She turned back to the California quartet. “Did you talk to them?”

  “We tried,” the other man replied, “but they ignored us, and then the light changed, so they hurried across the street.” He shrugged. “Midwesterners are usually friendly. I ought to know. I was born and raised in Minnesota.”

  “If you ask me,” Edith said, “they never were very sociable, not even when we’d try to visit with them here.”

  “Takes all kinds,” her husband murmured, and shrugged.

  The Virginia twins and the honeymooners came downstairs in quick succession. Judith finished setting out the food before returning to the kitchen, where Renie was pouring a mixture of mushroom soup, sour cream, and sherry over the chicken breasts.

  “Very odd,” Judith remarked.

  “The farmers?” Renie said, sprinkling paprika on the concoction.

  “Yes. I told you I didn’t think the Griggses were what they claimed to be.” Judith took a big handful of fresh green beans out of the fridge. “But I can’t figure it out. They were here the night of the murder. Could they be involved? If so, why stay in the city?”

  Sliding the casserole dish into the oven, Renie grinned at her cousin. “You already know the answer. Why ask me?”

  “Okay,” Judith conceded. “They aren’t who they pretended to be. But I ran them through the computer and everything checked out. Wilbur and Patrice Griggs live in Iowa corn farming country. They’re using stolen ID, or…?” She waited for Renie to fill in the gaps.

  Renie looked blank. “I give up.”

  Judith was distracted by a flash of lightning, followed almost immediately by the roll of thunder. “Never mind. It’s probably one of my loonier ideas. Here comes the rain.”

  As gray clouds hung over Heraldsgate Hill, big drops poured down, pelting the windows and bouncing off the pavement. The bursts of lightning and thunder grew almost simultaneous. As the cousins made their cocktails, they smiled and mouthed the words of typical natives.

  “We need this rain,” Judith said.

  Renie nodded agreement. “It’ll clear the air.”

  Forty-five minutes later, Judith delivered dinner to her mother. Gertrude griped that “supper” was too darned late, rain or no rain, guests or no guests, dead bodies or no dead bodies.

  Judith tried to shut out the litany of complaints. “I’ve got something for you,” she said, reaching into her pocket and placing Gertrude’s engagement ring on the card table.

  The old lady gaped at the ring and then at her daughter. “Where’d you find it?”

  “The laundry basket,” Judith lied. “It got tangled with your wash.”

  “Phyliss shouldn’t be so slapdash when she changes my bed.” With some difficulty, Gertrude put the ring on her finger. “So where’s that candy you were going to buy me?”

  “That’s another story.” Judith frowned. “I’m still sorting out that one. I’ll buy another box tomorrow.”

  “You darned well better,” Gertrude muttered.

  Making her exit, Judith, however, noticed that her mother’s face softened as she gazed at the cherished ring. Memories, no doubt, that could evoke smiles—and tears.

  When Judith went back into the kitchen, Caitlin was talking to Renie. “If there isn’t enough casserole,” Caitlin was saying, “I can have soup.”

  “There’s plenty,” Renie replied. “I always make too much Chicken Parisienne. Force of habit, I guess, from when my kids lived at home. What about Terri?”

  Caitlin shrugged. “I don’t know. When we came back from checking her out at the motel and making reservations for tomorrow night at the Heraldsgate Hotel, our half-brothers were getting out of Billy’s sports car and insisted that she go for a ride with them. I suppose they won’t be gone long.”

  For a reason she couldn’t quite fathom, an uneasy feeling enveloped Judith. “Did they ask you, too?”

  “No,” Caitlin replied. “I cut my ties with those two years ago. They teased and bullied me constantly when Dad wasn’t around. He tried to straighten them out, but by the time he married Mom, I guess it was too late. After I moved out, I avoided them like the plague.”

  Judith nodded. “Your father hasn’t really kept in touch with them much over the years. He hadn’t seen Barry or Doug for a long time until the party Monday night.”

  “That sounds right,” Caitlin said vaguely, staring out through the kitchen window over the sink. “It’s still coming down pretty hard. I hope whichever of those morons is driving that hot car remembers how slippery the streets can be around here after we haven’t had any rain for a while.”

  “Was Billy with them?” Judith asked while Renie got out a third place setting and began dishing up the food.

  “I didn’t see him,” Caitlin said, sitting down at the table. “I didn’t see my mother, either. That’s just as well.”

  As the last of the B&B guests left for the evening, the three women began eating. The topic switched from family relationships to how much the city—and the hill in particular—had changed over the years. It was inevitable that the conversation went full circle, with Caitlin marveling at her mother’s temerity in building a condo in the cul-de-sac. />
  “Is it legal?” she asked the cousins.

  “I don’t know,” Judith replied, “but if she’s applied for permits, we’ll find out soon enough.”

  “It wouldn’t surprise me,” Renie put in, “if she got a green light. I can’t believe how many multifamily residences have been put up in the past few years. Many of them cut off other homeowners’ views. But despite all the protests filed and the city holding public hearings, it doesn’t seem like there’s anything that can be done to stop construction. It’s so crowded around here now that the only way builders can go is up.”

  Judith noted that it was almost seven-thirty. The thunder and lightning had passed over, but it was still raining, though the downpour had dwindled to a drizzle. “Shouldn’t Terri be back by now? She did plan to spend the night here with you, right?”

  Caitlin glanced at her watch. “Yes. I brought the things she needed with me. The hotel let us put the rest in their baggage room.”

  The phone rang. Judith got up to grab the receiver.

  “Hi,” Terri said, her voice sounding a bit odd. “I’ve decided to go back to L.A. Would you mind shipping my things after I find a place to live down there?”

  Judith mouthed Terri’s name for the benefit of Renie and Caitlin. “Are you sure about moving back to Los Angeles?” The question evoked a surprised look from Caitlin and a frown from Renie. “Caitlin would be a wonderful person to help you get reestablished.”

  “Yes, but…” Terri paused. “I’ve lived in L.A. a long time. It’s home now.” She paused again. Judith thought she heard another voice in the background. “I have friends there, really nice people.”

  Caitlin had stood up, motioning that she wanted to talk to her half-sister. “Where are you?” Judith asked with a nod at Caitlin. “If you’re close, we could bring the items that are here at the B&B.”

  “I don’t need them,” Terri replied hurriedly. “I’m right by a drugstore for any necessities. I have to go.”

  “Wait!” Judith’s tone was sharp. “Here’s Caitlin.” She thrust the phone at her stepdaughter.

  “Terri?” Caitlin said—and waited. “Terri? Are you there? Terri?”

  The tone of Caitlin’s voice sent a shiver down Judith’s spine. Even Renie, who had actually stopped stuffing her face, looked anxious.

  “I think,” Caitlin said bleakly, holding the receiver in front of her, “Terri hung up.”

  “Hit the caller ID button,” Judith urged. “The screen will show the number she called from.”

  Caitlin pressed the CID button. “No,” she said helplessly. “It says ‘Security Screen’ with just a bunch of zeroes.”

  Judith grimaced. “Try star-sixty-nine for last number dialed.”

  Caitlin nodded once and hit more buttons. “Unavailable,” she said. “Why would Terri hang up on me?”

  Judith took the receiver from Caitlin. “I don’t think she did. I suspect someone else hung up for her.”

  21

  Caitlin’s expression was grim. “What should we do?”

  Judith’s brain was already grappling with the situation. “I think that car’s a two-seater. If Terri went for a ride with one of her brothers or Billy, that Aston Martin should be easy to spot.” She started to dial 911 but stopped before she got beyond the first number. Judith simply couldn’t deal with so much as a single dollop of sarcasm from the emergency operators. “Coz,” she said, speaking rapidly, “get Woody’s card from the bulletin board. It’s between AAA and Athens Pizza.”

  Renie removed the pushpin and handed the card to Judith.

  “Thanks,” Judith said. “Use your cell to phone Holliday’s Pharmacy to see if they’ve seen Terri or the car. Then call Bartleby’s Drugs at the bottom of the hill.”

  “I can do that,” Caitlin volunteered, opening the yellow pages.

  “Good.” Judith, who’d penciled in Woody’s private number, waited for him to answer. He picked up on the third ring. “I know you’re probably off-duty,” she said without preamble, “but I’ve got a serious problem. I barely know the homicide detectives working this case, and I’m afraid we have a missing person, one of Vivian’s daughters.”

  “Not Caitlin?” Woody said, sounding concerned.

  “No, her half-sister, Terri,” Judith replied, noting that Caitlin had gone down the hall to use her phone, and Renie had taken her cell into the dining room. “Let me explain what I think may have happened.” As concisely as possible, Judith not only related the sequence of events, but gave Woody a detailed description of Terri and her half-brothers. “I hate to ask you to get involved,” she went on, “but—”

  “Judith,” Woody broke in, “don’t. I won’t step on any toes, but I’ll see what I can do. I think the patrol officers on this shift are your old pals, Mercedes Berger and Darnell Hicks. They asked to be switched to the night shift because Darnell’s wife had a baby a couple of days ago, and he wanted to be home during the day. I’ll contact them ASAP and touch base with the tecs. If I hear anything, I’ll let you know.”

  “Thanks, Woody. Call me at the B&B or on my cell. You have the numbers, right? I know I’m asking a lot, but—” She stopped, aware that she was wasting time, thanked him again, and rang off.

  Renie reentered the kitchen. “No sighting of Terri at Holliday’s. Everybody who works there knows all the regulars. I had to listen to the pharmacist, Lenny Tripp, describe Olga Broadbutt wearing a halter and short shorts when she picked up her fiber pills.”

  “Her name’s Broadbent,” Judith pointed out.

  “That may be her name, but have you seen Olga in short shorts?”

  “No, thank goodness.” Judith frowned. “Of course, we don’t know that Terri actually went inside the drugstore.” She paused as Caitlin also came back into the kitchen. “Any luck?”

  Caitlin grimaced. “The most I could find out was that one of the checkers heard a customer say something about a really hot sports car in the parking lot. Do you think that would be the Aston Martin?”

  “I wouldn’t be surprised,” Judith said, “although there are quite a few expensive cars on Heraldsgate Hill these days.”

  Caitlin nodded once. “The car was gone when I called.”

  Judith sighed. “I was afraid of that. Unfortunately, Bartleby’s is by the street that leads to both the freeway and the north-south main route through town.”

  Caitlin leaned against the refrigerator. “What do we do now?”

  “We wait,” Judith said, and explained about her call to Woody Price. “He’ll do what he can,” she concluded, “though it’s not his case. I can’t figure out anything we should be doing at this end. Unless…”

  Renie held her head. “Oh, God—what? Put targets on our backs?”

  “Not quite,” Judith replied with a guarded glance at her cousin. “But I think I’ll go over to Vivian’s and see who’s there and who isn’t.”

  “Not alone,” Renie declared. “I’ll go with you.”

  “What about me?” Caitlin asked plaintively.

  “You stay here,” Judith said, “in case Terri calls or comes back.”

  Caitlin sank into a kitchen chair, her head down and her shoulders slumped. “I wish I were back in Switzerland. It’s so…calm there. Why did I ever come here?”

  Judith put a hand on Caitlin’s shoulder. “You meant well. After all, your mother seemed to need you.”

  “No.” She vigorously shook her head. “My mother doesn’t need people, she uses them. Why did I think she might’ve changed?”

  “We often hope for the best,” Judith said.

  “But we always expect the worst,” Renie put in. “I do, anyway.”

  Judith shot her cousin a reproving glance. “Let’s go, Angel of Gloom.”

  “I think I’ll take the shovel,” Renie said as they headed for the front door. “Weaponry seems like a good idea.”

  “Forget it,” Judith retorted. “I’m not afraid of Herself.”

  “It’s not her I’m worried about,
” Renie said, hesitating on the edge of the porch and gazing into the cul-de-sac. “No Aston Martin, just a pickup and the Ericsons’ SUV.”

  “I think the pickup belongs to either Doug or Barry,” Judith said, watching her step as she reached the sidewalk. The drizzle continued, leaving a few puddles in the concrete. The cousins barely noticed the rain. Only a downpour forced natives to cover their heads. It wasn’t quite eight-thirty, but for the first time since summer began a few lights shone in windows around the cul-de-sac in the early evening.

  “Do we have a plan?” Renie inquired as they cut across the open area to Vivian’s house.

  “Well…not exactly,” Judith admitted, noting that there was a single light on inside the bungalow. “We’re playing it by ear.”

  Just as they started up the porch steps, a yellow cab pulled into the cul-de-sac. Judith and Renie stopped, waiting to see who got out.

  “Mandrake Stokes?” Judith whispered as the dapper gentleman emerged from the taxi.

  “So it is,” Renie murmured.

  As Stokes approached the cousins, he tipped his hat. “Good evening, ladies. A bit dampish, eh?”

  “A bit,” Judith replied. “Are you here to see Mrs. Buss?”

  The man’s usually pleasant face hardened slightly. “If you wish to call her that.” He tipped his hat a second time and walked past the cousins up to Vivian’s front door.

  “Now what?” Renie said under her breath.

  Judith made a face. “Bad timing on our part.” She back-stepped a couple of paces so as not to be seen by whoever answered the door. The welcoming voice belonged to Adelita. A moment later, Judith heard the door close. “Damn,” she cursed. “I don’t have a contingency plan.”

  “That doesn’t bother me, since you didn’t know what—” Renie stopped as Judith’s cell rang.

  Removing the slim phone from her slacks pocket, she saw Woody’s private line on the screen. “Yes?” she said eagerly.

  “Mercedes and Darnell just checked in,” Woody said. “They stopped the driver of an Aston Martin about ten minutes ago after he ran an arterial at the four-way stop just east of the civic center. No valid license plates, just the Florida dealer’s temporary sticker, which expired August first. The driver, William Andrew Buss, was alone.”