Hide and Sneak

by G. A. McKevett

  Savannah turned in her chair and addressed her accuser in a calm, almost humorous tone. “Amazing, isn’t it? And to think I wanted to be a go-go dancer or cowgirl and miss out on all this fun.”

  “I think it’s a despicable way to make a living.”

  “Then it’s a darned good thing that you aren’t the one doing it, huh?” Just for good measure she added, “If they hadn’t had muck in their lives, we wouldn’t have found anything to rake. Like when your mom told you to make sure your underwear was clean in case you ever got in an accident. Same principle.”

  Tammy snickered, covering her face with her hand.

  “It’s still a dark, dreary way to make a living,” Lenora insisted.

  “Yes, it is. But when someone’s hurt or missing, somebody has to find out who hurt them or took them. It isn’t easy. In fact, it’s awful sometimes. But someone has to do it.”

  “And that’s us,” Tammy chimed in.

  Lenora’s face settled into a scowl, and it occurred to Savannah that she appeared far less pretty and perfect than she had at first glance.

  Savannah turned back to Tammy and said, “Where were we?”

  “Discussing Neal Irwin’s infidelities and the angry husband who roughed him up.”

  “Oh, yes. That’s right. But you really can’t blame the hubby. Most spouses are a mite grumpy under those circumstances. It appears Crybaby Neal got the worst of the fight. Why did he get arrested? Last time I checked, adultery wasn’t illegal in the state of California. Bad taste, but not against the law.”

  “Apparently, he made ‘terrorist threats.’”

  “Terrorists?” Lenora seemed to feel the need to weigh in on this topic, too. “You people deal with terrorists? Normal, run-of-the-mill criminals aren’t enough for you?”

  Tammy sighed and turned to her mother. “According to California Penal Code Section 422, a terrorist threat or a criminal threat is one that threatens to ‘commit a crime which will result in death or great bodily injury to another person.’”

  Lenora ignored the recitation, but Tammy glowed, nonetheless, when Savannah said, “Well done, Miss Tamitha.”

  Savannah thumbed through the folder. “What threat did he make, exactly?”

  “Apparently, the woman started apologizing profusely to her husband and telling him that she loved him and Neal was just a stupid fling and meant nothing to her. The couple hugged and kissed and made up on the spot, right there in front of him. He took offense and threatened to burn their house down over their heads.”

  Tammy nodded toward the folder. “There’s actually more than one story like that in there.”

  Scanning the contents, Savannah said, “Wow! I’m surprised the duck got away unscathed.”

  “Check out page four.”

  “No way. He hurt an animal? I hate him.”

  “He went back to the pond and fed the poor thing a jalapeño pepper. Some kids saw him do it and reported him to the park ranger. He pled down to ‘misdemeanor harassment of an animal.’ They threw out the torture charge and he got community service. Had to pick up garbage around the pond for a month.”

  “That’s it. If there’s one thing I can’t abide, it’s animal abuse. That tallywhacker gets moved right to the top of my suspect list.”

  Tammy grinned and nudged her. “The suspect list that had nobody else on it.”

  “The very one.”

  Chapter 12

  When Savannah drove the Mustang up the narrow, curving Malibu road later that afternoon, she felt as though it had been days, rather than hours, since she had first visited the stone castle on the hill.

  She was exhausted and hungry and regretted her decision to skip lunch. Although she’d tried to convince her stomach that cinnamon rolls and Gran’s apple pie à la mode were a pretty darned good lunch, it rumbled and grumbled its disagreement.

  But as she approached the grand mansion on the mountain crest, she couldn’t help feeling desperately sorry for the woman who, until yesterday, had lived there in a high standard of luxury that few people in the world would ever be able to enjoy.

  How quickly things can change, Savannah thought. Granny Reid often said, “In life, bad changes can happen in an instant. Good changes seem to take a lot more time and work. Life’s unfair that way.”

  Now, even those closest to Beth wondered what sort of life she was living or if, indeed, she was living at all.

  What was a missed toasted cheese sandwich and a bowl of tomato soup if she could find that woman and her child and return them to their beautiful home and the arms of their worried loved ones?

  Just as Savannah had reached the chateau and was pulling into its cobblestone driveway, the car’s new speakerphone jingled and announced that Dirk was calling. She jumped, startled, as she had many times, at having an unexpected voice suddenly manifest in her vehicle. No doubt, someday, she would grow accustomed to it. But not on a day when she was feeling as stressed as she was at the present.

  “Answer,” she told it.

  A moment later, her husband’s husky voice filled the interior of the Mustang. “Hi, babe. Where are you?”

  “The Malloy mansion. John wasn’t kidding about this place. You really have to see it. I’m telling you, it’s got everything but the alligator-infested moat.”

  “Are you gonna squeeze that Amy gal and the maid?”

  “Probably not. Thought I’d leave the squeezing up to you. You’re better at it. I’ll just chat them up, gain their trust, then see if I can get them to spill something good.”

  “Pansy.”

  “Honey catches more flies than vinegar.”

  “Yeah. But they’re flies.”

  “Anyway, that’s where I am. Where are you?”

  “I just blew an hour and change getting a judge to approve a warrant for me to get Beth Malloy’s phone records. It took me forever to convince him that she really is missing, her and her kid, and that those records are relevant and material to my investigation.”

  “Judges. They just don’t ‘squeeze’ as easily as other folks do. I think that robe they wear goes to their head. Or maybe it’s the gavel.”

  “If I had a gavel, I could rule the world.”

  “You could hammer in the morning,” she sang. “Or you could hammer in the evening. All over this—”

  “Yeah, yeah. Call me as soon as you get out of there.”

  “I will. And if you can find out where that reprobate Neal Irwin is, and if I get out of here soon enough, we can go shake him down.”

  “For murder?”

  “We’ll start with roughing him up for feeding a jalapeño to a poor, unsuspecting duck, and see where it goes from there.”

  “Ah, something to look forward to. Love ya.”

  “You too.”

  She ended the call, turned off the car, got out, and walked up to the big arched doorway that she was beginning to know all too well.

  Before she even had time to use the big bear knocker, the door swung open. This time it was Amy there to greet her.

  The young woman quickly ushered her into the massive foyer.

  “Good afternoon, Ms. Reid,” she said with a subdued smile. “Mr. Ethan told me you were coming. He asked me to take care of you, to cooperate with you in any way I could. Of course, I’d be glad to. Anything at all, if it would help us get Miss Beth and Freddy back.”

  “Thank you, Amy,” Savannah said, glancing around. “Is your boss here?”

  Amy nodded. “He is. But he’s lying down. He didn’t sleep at all last night, and I think it caught up with him about an hour ago. He said if you need him, he’d be glad to get up and talk to you.”

  “He and I have already talked quite a bit today,” Savannah told her. “Mostly, I just need to speak with you two ladies. I only have a few questions. I’ll try not to take too much of your time.”

  “Oh, don’t worry about that. Anything for Miss Beth and our little Freddy.” Amy’s eyes filled with tears, but she tried to put on a gracious, hospi
table air and said, “I made Mr. Ethan a nice, big ham and cheese sandwich for his lunch. But he was too upset to eat it. I’d hate for it to go to waste. Would you—?”

  “I would simply love a nice, big ham and cheese sandwich. God bless your heart, darlin’. You must’ve read my mind.”

  * * *

  Ten minutes later, Savannah was in heaven. Not actual paradise, but about as close as she had gotten so far in this lifetime.

  She was comfortably seated on a cushy chaise lounge next to an infinity pool that overlooked the mountains of Malibu and its exquisite, sparkling coastline.

  On her lap was a delicate porcelain plate with none other than an artist’s rendition of the chateau itself and a graceful M scrolled in gold beneath it.

  Atop that plate was simply the best ham sandwich she had ever eaten.

  Amy had even added a sprig of fresh grapes and some potato chips on the side. On the table next to Savannah, she had set an icy glass of well-sweetened tea.

  For the moment, life was well worth living.

  Although it was difficult not to be distracted by the breathtaking view and the delectable edibles, Savannah forced her mind back to the critical business at hand.

  Amy was sitting in a chair nearby, looking pretty in her sundress, but somehow tense and ill at ease. Her hands were folded demurely in her lap, but on closer inspection, Savannah could see that they were tightly clenched.

  “What did you want to ask me about?” Amy asked.

  Savannah got the distinct impression that she was eager to get this interview over with as soon as possible.

  “I have a few questions about your employer, Miss Beth, as you call her.”

  “What kind of things do you want know?”

  “Personal, sensitive things, I’m afraid,” she told her. “Mr. Malloy assured me that you’re a faithful, discreet employee. I’m sure that under normal circumstances you keep what you know about the family you serve confidential.”

  “I try to be. It’s important when you have a job like mine. Your employers trust you to keep what you know about them to yourself.”

  “I’m sure that’s true. But this is an extraordinary situation. It may be a matter, quite literally, of life and death. So, Amy, I need you to be completely open with me and try not to worry that you’re betraying confidences. That sort of thing doesn’t matter right now.”

  “I understand. Mr. Ethan already explained it to me. He told me that he made a mistake by not telling you everything when you questioned him earlier today. He told me not to make that same mistake, to answer everything you ask me and not to hold back anything at all.”

  Savannah nodded thoughtfully and set the half-eaten sandwich on the table next to her.

  “Then I’m going to ask you one of the hardest questions first, because it may be one of the most important ones.”

  “Okay.” She swallowed. “I’m ready.”

  “Has your employer, Beth, been having an affair with anyone?”

  Amy thought, long and hard, before answering. “I’m not sure. Maybe.”

  It wasn’t the conclusive answer Savannah had been hoping for. But at least, Amy appeared to be open and candid.

  “What makes you think it’s a possibility?” Savannah asked.

  “Miss Beth gets lonely when Mr. Ethan’s gone for long periods of time, working. She’s still young. She’s pretty. Men notice her everywhere she goes, and they flirt with her. She likes that. You can’t really blame her. How could she not enjoy male attention?”

  “Does she flirt back?”

  “She does. I mean she’s a classy lady. She’s not real obvious about it. Just a little here and there.”

  “What makes you think she might be having an affair?”

  “Sometimes, when Mr. Ethan is away, working on a movie, she asks Pilar to watch Freddy for her while she goes out in the evening.”

  “Is that unusual?”

  “Kind of, because when Mr. Ethan is home, they never go out unless they take Freddy with them.”

  “Maybe she’s spending time with her girlfriends, meeting them for drinks, some girl chat, whatever.”

  “Maybe. But once in a while, she’s gone all night. And a few times, after one of those nights, someone sends her a bouquet of roses. I don’t think her girl buddies would do that. Not red roses anyway.”

  Savannah nodded. “Yellow daisies, maybe. Red roses? Probably from a guy.”

  Savannah thought of Ethan and felt bad for him. He seemed to love his wife and child, to enjoy being a family man. She was sorry to think that the shadow of infidelity was darkening his door.

  “If Miss Beth is having an affair, who might she be having it with?” she asked.

  “I think it might be Mr. Irwin, her ex-husband.”

  “Is there any particular reason you think it could be him?”

  “She calls him a lot, and they talk for a long time. When she’s talking to him she sounds happy, like she used to with Mr. Ethan. She giggles and laughs and gets all excited about the things he says. She hasn’t been that way with Mr. Ethan for a long time.”

  “It sounds like they’re having problems in their marriage, apart from her interest in someone else, that is.”

  “They do have some issues that keep coming up over and over. They argue quite a bit about them.”

  “What kind of issues?”

  Amy shrugged her thin shoulders and crossed her arms over her chest. “It’s hard for Miss Beth to see her husband leaving, going off to film some great movie that she’s not going to be part of. She was a really good actress, a popular one, when they met. She was more successful than he was back then. Miss Beth, the accomplished movie star, dating the unknown, but up and coming, handsome young actor . . . it was all pretty romantic stuff. The fans sure ate it up.”

  “I can imagine.”

  “Actors have to have strong egos, or they’d never make it in such a tough business,” Amy said. “And Miss Beth has a strong sense of who she is. Or at least she used to. She hasn’t gotten a good job for so long. And since Mr. Ethan won the Oscar, he gets new scripts every day. Good scripts, too. He has his choice of work, while she has none.”

  “That would be hard for anyone to deal with, I’m sure.” Savannah told her. “Is there anyone else other than her ex-husband, Mr. Irwin, that she might be seeing?”

  “Not that I can think of. But then, you never really know a person. Not even someone you live with. People are capable of just about anything, aren’t they?”

  Savannah sighed. “They sure are, sugar. You’ve got that right.”

  Amy reached for her own glass of something that looked like an herbal concoction, then toyed with it, running her fingertip around its frosty sides.

  Savannah watched her closely. “Is there something else you want to tell me, Amy?” she asked.

  “What if there was another person,” Amy began carefully, “someone who’s really crazy about Miss Beth and, you know, would like to get something going with her, but she’s not interested? Would you want to know about that?”

  A charge of energy hit Savannah’s bloodstream, and it had nothing to do with the caffeine and sugar in her sweet tea. She sat up straight in her chair. “Absolutely.”

  “I don’t want to accuse anybody of anything, because that would be wrong. But I—”

  “Don’t worry about it. If they didn’t do anything wrong, they won’t be in any trouble. Who is it? Who wants to get into Miss Beth’s knickers, and she’s not going for it?”

  Amy giggled. “When you put it like that, probably a lot of people. Like I said, Miss Beth’s very pretty, and she’s nice . . . well . . . to most people most of the time.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with that,” Savannah told her emphatically. “‘Most people, most of the time’ is plenty good enough for anybody. I make a point of never trusting a person who’s nice to everybody all the time. Who is it, Amy? Who’s in love with Miss Beth?”

  “Mr. Orman, Mr. Ethan’s manager. He�
�s nuts about her. Lately, he’s really been trying hard with her.”

  “Trying hard, how?”

  “He’s been hanging around here a lot more than he needs to, making up excuses to drop by and talk to her.”

  “Do you have any idea what he’s talking to her about?”

  Amy nodded. “I haven’t been eavesdropping on them or anything like that.”

  “Of course not. You wouldn’t do a thing like that. But a body can’t help but overhear some things—”

  “You really can’t. I try, but . . .”

  “What’s he saying to her?”

  “When Mr. Ethan’s home, he just talks about the weather and stupid stuff like that. Or whatever job Mr. Ethan’s working on at the moment.”

  “And when Mr. Ethan isn’t home?”

  “Then he changes his tune completely. He’s like one of those little cartoon devils that sits on somebody’s shoulder and whispers bad things in their ear. It’s like he’s trying to turn Miss Beth against her husband.”

  “What exactly does he say? Tell me his precise words, if you can remember them.”

  “Okay.” Amy concentrated, nibbling on her lower lip, and closing her eyes for a moment. “Three days ago, he was over here. They were actually sitting right here, where we are now. When I came out to ask Miss Beth about some party supplies that she wanted me to order, I heard him talking. I don’t remember the exact words but this is pretty close. He said something like, ‘Beth, you’re a much better actor than Ethan will ever be. I could get you so much work, really good roles that you could sink your teeth into. But instead, you have to stay home and take care of the baby, while he’s out there, building his career, enjoying more than his share of fame and attention. Especially from women. It’s ridiculous how they throw themselves at him.’”

  “Nice guy,” Savannah said. “You’re right. He is an evil influence, whispering crap like that in her ear. Talk about planting the seeds for marital dissension.”

  “He’s got a temper, too.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “He’s usually all nicey-nicey when he’s around Miss Beth and Mr. Ethan. But one time, I saw him in the formal garden, the one you could see this morning from the library windows.”