Murder by Proxy

by Suzanne Young

  “Supposing that I did know, you'd be the last person I'd tell,” was Grant's hissed reply.

  Glancing around, Edna was certain she was the only witness to this exchange.

  “I'm still married to her. I have legal rights, so you'd better tell me where she is.”

  Edna looked again into the side mirror in time to see Rice's hand squeeze into a fist. Certain he was going to lash out at her son, she reached to open her door but was stopped by movement inside the neighboring car. Marcie had leaned over from the passenger's seat and was pushing open the driver's door. “Come on, Rice. Let's go. We're cooking in here.”

  The two men stood glaring at each other for a few seconds longer, as if neither wanted to be the first to look away. At Marcie's angry, “Rice, what's holding you up?” he turned and slipped into the driver's seat, slamming the door.

  Edna turned, waiting for Grant to open the driver's door of the Celica. She wanted to ask him about the angry display, but the sound of Rice's tires squealing on asphalt made her spin around as the Lexus peeled out of the parking lot. Twisting to look after the Lexus, she noticed Yonny, several spaces away, folding himself into a white, two-door Ford Escort. Momentarily distracted by the sight, she was wondering why he didn't have a bigger car for his long legs, when Grant slipped into the seat beside her. His dour mood had returned as he drove out of the parking lot and turned the car toward home.

  “What was Rice so angry about?” she said, hoping to get Grant to open up to her and let off some steam in the process.

  “Nothing,” Grant muttered, keeping his eyes on the road.

  She prodded her son with a comment. “You all work together, I take it.”

  “All but that guy Yonny. I only met him recently. He's … he was one of Lia's rock-climbing friends.”

  Mention of the dead woman made Edna remember what Ernie had said. “Who is Anita Collier? That man at the cemetery said she was also a friend of Lia's.” And of yours, she added mentally, not wanting to risk Grant's further anger by speaking that thought aloud.

  Grant scowled at the road ahead and let out a deep breath before answering. “Yes, she was a friend, and before you ask, I don't know why she wasn't at the funeral.”

  Since her son finally seemed resigned to her probing, Edna was determined to find out as much as she could. “And Anita is a friend of yours, too?”

  He glanced at her for an instant. “Why do you want to know about her?”

  She shrugged. “It's just that her name seems familiar. Who is she?”

  Grant didn't say anything for such a long time, Edna began to wonder if he were going to answer at all. “She was Michele's best friend.” He paused briefly before continuing. “Remember how reluctant Michele was to move out here, away from our families?”

  “Yes.” The pain that hit her chest at the mention of Grant's first wife, dead less than a year, kept Edna from saying more. She took several slow breaths before she could manage a weak smile in her son's direction. “It didn't take her long to adjust, though, once you got settled here.”

  “No,” he agreed. “That was thanks to Anita.”

  “Oh?” She encouraged him to go on.

  “When I took the job at Office Plus five years ago, Anita was Rice's secretary.”

  “Administrative assistant.” Trying to allay some of her own melancholy, Edna pouted, imitating Brea, and was rewarded in her attempt at humor by a snort from her son.

  “Yes, well … whatever.” Grant chuckled again, shaking his head before going on. “Rice was head of operations, which included the computer department, so at that time my boss reported to him. I was just another new employee in a growing company, but Anita was nice enough to stop by my desk once in a while and ask how things were going. One day, we happened to meet in the coffee room. I don't know how it began, but I started telling her about how unhappy my wife was. Because of it, I was having trouble concentrating on things at the office. I thought maybe I was going to lose my job.”

  “I think that's what Michele wanted to happen,” Edna interjected, thinking back to telephone conversations with her daughter-in-law. Actually, she, too, had been secretly hoping Grant would move his family back to Providence. She had particularly missed her precocious three-year-old granddaughter, but then Michele's attitude began to change. Grant's next words brought Edna's attention back to his story.

  “Anita must have called Michele as soon as she got back to her desk that morning. They hadn't even met, but Anita introduced herself and invited Michele to lunch, said definitely the invitation included Jillian, so a babysitter wouldn't be necessary.” Grant grinned at his mother before turning his eyes back to the road. “She took them to the cafeteria at the Museum of Natural History. Museum of Nature and Science, I guess they call it now. Anyway, the three of them had a blast. Jillybean went nuts over the giant tyrannosaurus rex. Michele told me that Jillian sat for the longest time and just stared up at all those bones while Anita told her about dinosaurs. Lunch was such a success that Anita called in to take the rest of the afternoon off, and that day was the beginning of Michele's turnaround. Anita toured her all over Denver, introduced her to people, and had her signing up for aerobics classes, museum trips and outdoor concerts. She kept Michele and Jillian so busy I was able to get on with my work, and everything was great. Anita became part of our family.”

  “Is she married? Does she have children of her own?”

  “She and Rice were married a couple of years ago.” His frown returned and his grip seemed to tighten on the steering wheel.

  So that’s who Rice was asking about, she thought, remembering the near altercation in the parking lot.

  “It was weird,” Grant said. “Rice dated lots of women, and Anita's a real knockout, so I would have thought he'd hit on her right away, but he didn't seem interested other than the fact that she worked for him. At the time, I figured he thought she was too young. I don't know what sparked him, and I don't think Anita really did either, but one day it was like he became obsessed with her. He kept asking her out and buying her flowers and gifts. She resisted for a long time, not only because he was her boss but also because he had a reputation for always being out with someone new and never sticking with any one woman for very long. Rice is a guy who likes the chase and gets bored quickly when it's over.”

  Grant seemed to realize he was gripping the steering wheel too tightly because for a minute he sat back against the seat and flexed the fingers of each hand. When he continued, he spoke as if relating memories, talking to himself as much as to Edna. “Rice really poured on the charm, and Anita finally agreed to have dinner with him, but only after she'd become a field sales rep and Brea had been hired to replace her in the office. By that time, Rice had been promoted to vice president of marketing and sales, so the changes in his staff were logical.

  “They hadn't dated for very long when one Friday night, Anita called Michele to say she and Rice were on their way to Las Vegas to get married. Michele tried to talk sense into her, but Anita said she knew what she was doing, and neither she nor Rice wanted the fuss and bother of a big wedding.”

  “From what I heard back in the parking lot, it sounds like the marriage isn't going well.”

  “I could have told her it wouldn't last.”

  “Do they have children?” Grant hadn't answered her question earlier, and she hoped there weren't children involved. It was bad enough when couples split up, but she didn't like thinking how it affected their young ones.

  “No. Rice didn't want kids. I think that's what made her finally wake up and see him for what he really is, a good-time guy with no sense of responsibility. Anita has always wanted a big family. She's an only child and says she regrets not having brothers or sisters. She and Michele were always arguing the pros and cons of single child versus siblings. Since Michele had three sisters, she thought being an only child would have been wonderful.” Grant turned to smile again at his mother. “I took Anita's side. I don't want Jillybean to miss out
on the fun of having a brother or sister.”

  It looks like you’re getting your wish, Edna thought, picturing Grant's second wife, home in bed for the remaining weeks of her pregnancy. Aloud, she said “Am I guessing correctly that Anita is definitely leaving Rice and has taken back her maiden name?”

  “You're half right.” Grant concentrated on a right-hand turn before offering further explanation. “Anita kept her maiden name, never went by Anita Ryan. Probably a good thing because, yes, she's left him. As I mentioned before, Rice never wanted a family. Guess he forgot to tell her that before they got married.” His voice dripped with sarcasm. “The honeymoon didn't last long either. Last year, Rice changed Anita's sales territory from metro Denver to a region covering northern Colorado, Wyoming, Montana and northern Idaho. That means she's gone a lot. Very convenient for him, her being out of town, assigned to our most desolate territory.”

  “What did she have to say about that? Didn't she object?”

  “Object? No.” Grant glanced at his mother with a grimace. “According to Michele, Rice told Anita it would be good experience for her, give her the challenge she needed to improve her skills. She, in turn, was going to show him what she could do, and she has. That territory was one of the worst for sales, and she's been bringing it around. The latest figures show the region's numbers are up twenty-seven percent over last year.

  “Rice was very attentive toward Anita during the few days each month she spent in town. Apparently, everyone but she knew he wasn't being faithful. At least, she didn't say anything to us about it, if she did suspect. Maybe she had her doubts but didn't want to believe the worst of her husband. She was always defending him, no matter what.”

  “She sounds like someone who doesn't give up easily,” Edna observed. “Maybe she felt she could turn her husband around, like she did with her sales territory.”

  Grant snorted. “You're right about her being a fighter, but Rice can be a real bastard. Sorry, Mother, but there's no nicer word for him. Anita left him a couple months ago, and I was glad to help her move out.”

  “And he doesn't know where she is.” It was more a statement than a question she posed to her son.

  He frowned for a moment before his face cleared with understanding. “You heard the disagreement.” When she nodded, he turned his eyes back to the road and said, “I'm not so sure that wasn't one of Rice's acts. I think he knows exactly where she is. If he doesn't, he has enough money to put a detective on her trail.”

  “Do you know where she is?” His mention of a detective brought Ernie's face to her mind, but she was smart enough not to wonder aloud if the man she'd just met might indeed be working for Anita's estranged husband.

  He was silent for several minutes before replying. “No, I don't, but I've been hoping to hear from her. With Dad visiting last week and Karissa getting sick, and all the extra work I have preparing for a big software conversion at the office, I haven't had a lot of extra time even to think about looking for her. Since Lia's fatal accident was all over the news, I thought for sure she'd be at the funeral. But she hasn't called, and now that she didn't show up today when one of her best friends was being buried, I'm really starting to worry.”

  “What made you change her telephone recording? That detective told me you rerecorded it yesterday. He thinks she asked you to do it.”

  Grant looked surprised. “Is that what he said?” After a brief pause, he explained matter-of-factly. “I did change it, but not because she told me to. She was very particular about her message when I first recorded it. She wrote it down and had me read it exactly. I thought if she were monitoring her phone, she'd call to find out why I changed it. It's a reach, I admit, but it's the only thing I could think of and the only thing I have time for right now.”

  He took a hand from the wheel and ran it through his close-cropped curls in a gesture of frustration. “It isn't like her not to have called us before this. I would have thought she would at least want to talk to Jillian. She's like a favorite aunt to Jillybean.” He paused for a heartbeat before adding with a tone of equal distress, “Even if I had the time, I wouldn't know where to begin to look for her.”

  Edna considered for a minute before asking, “If you're as anxious to contact her as you say, why won't you talk to that detective? Why won't you let him help you find her?”

  They had reached his house, and before answering, he turned into the driveway, parked and shut off the ignition. Facing her, he said, “Because I don't know this guy from Adam. Why is he looking for Anita? For all I know, he's working for Rice.” He pushed open the car door, adding, “And whatever her reason, Anita doesn't want to be found.”

  Three

  Edna slid out of the car and rushed after Grant to the front door of his ranch-style, brick house. “What do you mean she doesn't want to be found? Why not? Are you saying that only because you haven't heard from her or because she told you not to look for her?”

  He glanced at his watch before opening the door with his key. “I don't have time to discuss it now, Mother. I'm going in to check on Karissa and then I have to get back to work. Please. Stay out of this. I don't want to have to worry about you, too.”

  Before she could answer he had opened the door, ushered her in, and disappeared down the hall to the master bedroom. Taking her time, she removed her hat, hung up her coat in the small closet to the left of the front door, and looked in a nearby mirror to fluff her gray curls. She was running out of excuses to loiter in the entryway when Grant strode purposely down the hall and through the living room toward her.

  “Grant, just a minute.”

  “I'm late. Mother, I've really got to get back to work.” Gently, but firmly, he took her by the shoulders and moved her to one side so he could open the front door. Before he released her, however, he looked straight into her eyes. “Please don't mention any of this to Karissa. She's asleep, so I didn't wake her. You know she's not to be upset. I've been telling her the reason Anita hasn't called is because she wants to be completely alone for a while.”

  “But …” was all Edna had time to say before the door closed behind him.

  Still depressed over the funeral and newly frustrated at not being able to discover more about the mysterious Anita, Edna went to her small bedroom to change out of her dress into more comfortable slacks and blouse. Returning to the living room, she sat on the cushiony sofa, facing wide French doors that opened onto a redwood deck, and stared out at the backyard.

  What was she going to do with herself all day? The weekly cleaners had been in yesterday, and there wasn't enough laundry yet for another load. Jillian wouldn't be home from school until three this afternoon, and it was barely eleven, a good hour before time to make Karissa's lunch. Leaning forward to grab a magazine off the thick wooden coffee table, Edna glanced to her right and down the hall. She would look in on Karissa, but Grant had said she was asleep. Edna didn't feel entirely comfortable with this daughter-in-law yet. She missed Michele and felt that Karissa could never take her place. What was Grant thinking of, marrying so soon after Michele's fatal accident? How could he? Edna leaned back and flipped through the magazine, seeing neither words nor pictures.

  If only Albert had stayed to keep her company. At least they would have been able to play cards and keep each other entertained until Jillian came home from school. Right about now they would have been walking around the neighborhood, looking at and discussing various landscaping ideas for their own new home. But Albert had seemed almost relieved when his colleague had called and asked him to consult on the case. He had made the decision to return to Rhode Island instead of trying to advise long distance. “I'm useless around here,” he had said. “You'll be fine. I'll call you.”

  Resenting her husband's desertion, Edna wondered if she shouldn't put her coat on again and take a walk before lunch, but the idea of trudging along the same sidewalks without Albert didn't appeal to her. Tossing the magazine back onto the coffee table, she rose and strolled around the couch.
She trailed one hand along the corded fabric on the back of the sofa and studied the room. The furnishings, overstuffed and blockish with little wood showing, were not what she was used to. Definitely not the delicately carved pine and maple antiques that Michele had preferred, but perhaps more practical for a family with young children. Edna had to admit the colors were warm and inviting with a definite western flare in the desert beige, sandstone red and deep sky blue. A large woven basket beside the flagstone fireplace held discarded newspapers. Several small cactus dish gardens set out on side tables complimented the Native American paintings and pottery.

  A comfortable, lived-in room, Edna thought, at the same time wondering what had happened to all of Michele's prized possessions she had been so insistent on bringing with her from New England. It must have been expensive to replace an entire houseful of furniture. Michele's pieces had been perfectly serviceable.

  She let her mind fill with memories of her late daughter-in-law. Edna had been surprised at Grant's choice in women when she'd first met Michele. The young couple had been undergraduates together at Boston University, where he was studying computer science and she was an art history major. Michele had been as exuberant as Grant was quiet. Edna, conceding that sometimes opposites attract, welcomed Michele with open arms. She seemed good for Grant, interesting him in parties, dinners and concerts he ordinarily would have shunned. Edna thought back to the elaborate wedding at Michele's family's mansion in East Providence and the huge celebration nearly a year later when Jillian was born.

  Since Michele seemed to be the driving force in the marriage, Edna had been amazed when Grant announced their move to Colorado, a decision Michele had opposed vehemently. But he had been enthusiastic about the job opportunity in Denver and relocated his family to the western city five years ago. Although missing them very much and hoping the move was only temporary, Edna had been glad to hear Michele eventually talk animatedly about her new surroundings.