All of this ran through my head while I made coffee and sat outside, sipping it. The sun peered over the top of Sandia Peak, revealing a gorgeous spring morning and the back yard practically bursting with brilliant green. New leaves and shoots were showing up everywhere. The hanging baskets of petunias I’d placed around the gazebo overhang released their heady sweetness into the air.
A flicker of what-the-hell zipped through me. It was tempting to sit out here and give myself over to an entire day off, but I knew I wouldn’t. After an hour I was getting antsy. I needed just one photograph. The sooner I got it, the sooner I’d be free to goof off.
I took my empty cup inside and grabbed a couple of cereal bars from a box. Trading robe and slippers for jeans and a T-shirt, I did a little something with my hair and surveyed the result in the mirror. Could I pass for a college kid? I decided yes. Students came in all ages these days.
With an old textbook under my arm and a swing in my step, I headed for the door. Freckles raced to her crate, eager for the treat she always got, and I went out to the Jeep. At UNM I pulled into the same parking lot where the twin’s friend had met her. I flipped back through the photos on the camera, the ones I’d taken at the river party, finding the girl and memorizing her face.
Students began milling about, getting into vehicles, beginning their day with yawns and bleary eyes. I scanned every face but it took close to forty minutes before the one I wanted showed up. Her long, brunette hair was more subdued today, pulled into a side ponytail that trailed over one shoulder, and her makeup was far less dramatic. She had a backpack looped over one shoulder and was staring at a cell phone in one hand. I got out of my Jeep, feigned nonchalance, and started on a path that would bisect hers.
When my shoulder bumped hers, she looked up in irritation. I noticed she didn’t drop the phone. I grabbed the first name I could think of.
“Sorry,” I said. “Oh, hey. You’re Kris, right? Zayne and Clover’s friend?”
“Missy. Yeah, I know Zayne and Clover.” She quickly surveyed me with wary eyes and a half-smile.
“Yeah, I saw you the other night. You went to the party down at the river with … oh gosh, I can never tell at a distance. Was it Zayne?” I’d fallen into step beside her.
“Clover.” Her eyes were back on the phone screen.
“So weird. I’ve known them forever and I still can’t tell them apart.”
“Zayne got a little tattoo on her neck.” Missy indicated a spot behind her own ponytail. “It’s a tiny dragon, but personally I think it’s too little and came out looking like a spider.”
“Ah, I guess it was so small I never noticed it.” I glanced up at the nearest building—Sciences, if I remembered from the old days. “Well, this is me.”
I peeled off, noticed Missy kept walking. Her eyes stayed on her phone and she had near collisions with several others who were doing the same. She would never remember the encounter with me, and she’d never know she had just given me a hugely valuable piece of information. I doubled back to the parking lot and drove home.
Freckles was thrilled to see me again so soon, doubly so when I picked up her leash. I’d decided the direct approach was best. I would walk over and come right out with the request for a picture of the two girls together. It wasn’t unreasonable for their aunt to want one, and I was merely the messenger. Both Corvettes were in the driveway over there, so this was as good a time as any. Plus, having my little friendship ambassador along couldn’t hurt.
For Donna’s purposes, a cell phone camera would be fine. I didn’t want to walk through the neighborhood with Drake’s big camera swinging from its strap around my neck. I stuck my phone in my pocket, clipped the dog’s leash on and headed out the front door. The day had warmed nicely and we were just a girl and her dog out on a walk—with one little side mission.
I rehearsed my lines on the way up the street. One simple, straightforward request—that’s all. Your aunt wants me to send a picture.
As I mounted the step I noticed their front door stood open behind the screen door. From inside, I heard a blare of some rock tune. It paused and started again. A cell ringtone. I stepped to the side and pulled Freckles along with me.
“You’ve reached Zany Delaney,” said a voice. “Ha! Yeah, it was a blast. I just got up.”
A pause. Laughter in response to something the caller said. It sounded like Zayne, I supposed. I’d only spoken in recent times with Clover, the twin with the quieter demeanor. Maybe if I could get a look and see that tattoo …
I started to step toward the open doorway but another phone rang, this one with a chiming sound like cathedral bells.
“Hello? Oh hi, yeah this is Clover.”
My heart thumped a little as I reached for my phone camera. Both girls were here in the same room. I would whip the screen door open and get my picture before they knew what happened. The dog picked up on my excitement, running around me and entangling my legs in her leash. I stumbled, crashing my shoulder into the metal screen, making a clatter.
“Who’s there?”
“Um, hi. It’s just Charlie.”
Clover came toward me, her phone still at her ear. I knew which twin it was because I could see the side of her neck.
“Sorry, just me and Freckles.”
She told the person she would call them back then jammed the phone into her pocket.
“Hey Freckles,” she said softly. “You’re so cute.”
She pushed the screen open and knelt to pet the dog.
“I thought I heard your sister talking to someone when I walked up on the porch. Is she here?”
Her head shook, rattling the dog’s tags. “Ah, well … no. That was me. She went to the store and forgot her phone. That was a friend she went to a party with last night.”
I glanced toward the two cars in the driveway. She noticed.
“She walked. It’s just to the little convenience store over on Central.”
It was a lie, I felt sure. For one thing, I’d never seen either of these girls walk anywhere their bright speedy cars would take them. As for forgetting the phone … if not for the previous time I’d been in the house, I wouldn’t have bought that story either. But what was I to do—confront her and have her shut down altogether?
I decided on the if-you-can’t-beat-them-join-them approach. A memory from years ago surfaced. Clover was the quieter of the two and she was also more outdoorsy.
“Freckles and I were going for a hike a little later. Want to come along? Just an easy one up in the foothills.”
Her body tensed.
“Remember the time you girls were maybe ten or so? You were spending the day with Elsa and she thought a picnic would be a great idea. She drove up to that picnic area and I came down the trail, all sweaty and hungry. I was never so happy to see anyone, ’cause, dummy me, I’d left my water bottle behind. She fed us all …”
“I do remember that day,” Clover said. “You were kind of my hero back then.”
“So, what do you think? I’ll grab a little something from the fridge and we can picnic again.”
The thing inside her which had been so closed off to me opened the smallest bit. “Okay, yeah. Why not?”
Chapter 28
I had no clue what—aside from pizza, fast food and soda—these girls ate. Sandwiches seemed tricky. I could make four kinds and still get it wrong, so I opted to toss a couple of cheeses, a small salami and some fruit into a little cooler. Sodas and bottled water rounded out the offering, which I hoped covered the choices well. It wouldn’t surprise me if she bailed anyhow and I ended up putting it all back in the fridge.
I carried the cooler out to my Jeep, checked the gas tank and was teasing Freckles with the promise of a car trip when I saw Clover come out to her front porch. This was the moment of decision. She caught sight of the dog and came walking toward us. See? Pets really are the world’s ambassadors.
Clover climbed into the passenger seat, turning to reach over the console and pet t
he dog, who wriggled with excitement at our newfound company as I backed out of the driveway. We hit the freeways, exited at Tramway and watched for the turnoff to the Juan Tabo picnic area and head of the La Luz trail. I hated to admit how many years it was since I’d been here, and I hoped I would recognize the turn.
My guest didn’t seem to notice. She answered my conversation attempts with monosyllables and kept checking her phone. As bonding experiences go, this might not have been such a great idea. I found a parking spot and pulled in, ordering Freckles to stay in the back while I got organized, making sure the food cooler sat in a shady spot. I pulled out my cell phone.
“Let’s leave our phones here,” I said, putting my phone into the glovebox. “All week long I work in an office where the thing rings all the time, always someone wanting a piece of me. When I get out in nature, it’s so great to ditch it and just listen to the birds and the wind.”
She looked a little panicky.
“Once we get partway up the trail there’s probably no signal anyway,” I said.
“What if we need help?”
“Someone will come along. It’s a popular trail.” Mine was probably the last generation who would ever remember the freedom of being completely unconnected.
“I’ll just zip mine into my pocket,” she said.
If she’d been my kid I could have made it an order, but she wasn’t, so I let it go. We started up the easy slope of the first section of trail. The full trail goes all the way to the top of Sandia Peak at ten-thousand-plus feet with some steep places which, this time of year, could still have snow on them, but my plan included no such heroics. Unless we felt especially inspired and hearty, I figured we would go the first half-mile or so, turn around and come back. A mile at this altitude feels farther than you think.
“I used to hike this trail quite a bit when I was your age,” I told my companion. “Getting out like this was like the perfect antidote to school where I had all these classes on tax regulations. In fact, I think I was coming up on my accounting exams the day I hiked out here and ran into you guys with Elsa.”
“That was funny,” she said with a tiny smile. “Mrs. Higgins had her hands full with us, I guess. We’d run up the trail a ways and she would call out and tell us to stay in sight. We laughed and made a game of staying just beyond the limit. She got us when she turned around and walked away. We were watching from behind a big rock and saw her heading down the hill. Oh my god, we got so scared she would drive away and we’d have to walk all the way home.”
“I know. Even in her eighties she could do so much. She’s amazing.”
“We sneaked back down, watching to see what she would do. I was ready to scream and run to catch up with her car, but Zayne was all brave, talking about how yeah, we’d hitchhike home if we had to.”
“Elsa would have never, ever left you girls up here.”
“Yeah, I know that now. But, you know, to a kid—” Her eyes misted over, her lower lip quivering.
“Her brownies used to get me to come running.”
Clover blinked twice, coming back to the present. “Yes. That’s exactly what she did. She got to her car and opened the trunk and we heard her say ‘Now where did I put those brownies?’ and we came racing down the hill.”
I laughed over the memories and Freckles leaped around in circles, flushing a few quail from behind a bush. They ran across the trail, heads bobbing, tiny legs skittering a million miles an hour.
“Dang,” I said. “I wish I’d had brownies to put in our lunch today. You’re making me hungry.”
We came to the bend in the trail where I’d planned to turn around. The view from here was spectacular, with the city spread out below yet looking close enough to toss a pebble and land it in one of the major streets.
“We need a selfie of the two of us,” Clover said, unzipping her jacket pocket.
Had the girl actually begun to think of me as a friend? Wow.
She stepped close to me and stretched her arm with the camera facing us. Her pensive smile flashed bright for the photo.
“I’ll Friend you on Facebook so you can see it. Bet we get a ton of Likes.”
For one moment I wondered what it would be like to be nineteen again, so young and carefree. She posed another shot to get the panorama behind us, although most likely not a lot of it would show. We headed down toward the picnic area.
“I’ll get the food,” I said when we arrived back at the picnic tables. “You guys stake out a spot for us.”
The dog wiggled with excitement. Clover took the leash and the two of them began examining the choices, looking for the best spot. I caught up with them at the site highest above the parking lot. I’d remembered to include a plastic tablecloth—you never know what condition public tables will be—and I spread it wide across the concrete surface. When I brought out the goodies, Clover’s eyes lit up.
“Cool—an actual adult picnic. Not that I wouldn’t have been okay with peanut butter sandwiches,” she amended quickly.
I found it oddly endearing that she cared enough to insert the little politeness.
“We aim to please,” I joked, handing her the cheese knife while I unscrewed the tops on the water bottles. “Too bad Zayne wasn’t around to come along with us.”
A shadow passed over her face, something I couldn’t interpret. A wariness, perhaps a dread that I would get into more of the same old questions.
“Oh, well, more food for us,” I leaped in to say. “Her loss.”
She sat stock-still for a full minute, her expression far away. Again, I couldn’t read her thoughts but hated that we’d lost the lighthearted moment.
“Look, there’s a roadrunner,” I said, pointing about ten yards away.
The change of subject brightened Clover’s face again. Luckily, the dog was still leashed and I distracted her with a tidbit of the cheese while the bird ran out of our sight.
“Let me see the pictures again,” I said when Clover brought out her phone.
She turned it to face me and I reached out and swiped through them. She had a flair for this, good camera angle, great lighting. She’d captured a candid shot of me and Freckles at some point up the trail. I’d never realized she was aiming toward us. It was an appealing picture of the moment when I let the dog off the leash and she’d licked my face.
“You’re pretty good at photography,” I told her. “Ever thought about a career of it?”
“Oh, I don’t know … I, um, haven’t really thought much about the future. Zayne thought about getting into the film industry, doing something like my parents. They know a lot of people.”
As she talked, I swiped back through the photos one more time. Before today’s outing there were shots from the river party. I recognized Missy, the girl from the dorm, and the boy I’d seen at their house a few times. Before the party, there were shots taken inside the Delaney house—one twin about to bite down on a huge pizza slice, feet modeling a pair of new red shoes. One more swipe and I nearly dropped the phone.
Clover continued to drop famous names as she talked about her parents.
The photo on the screen showed Zayne sweeping her hair upward with one hand. She stood with her shoulder toward the camera, rear end jutted out, knees flexed in a model-like pose. The little tattoo was clearly visible. So was everything else, since she wore nothing but the red shoes.
I must have reacted because Clover looked back at me. I quickly swiped back to today’s photos. C’mon, Charlie, don’t be a prude. They’re not your kids. It’s not your place to form judgments.
I stared again at the photo of me and my dog. “Hey, can we email this one to me?” Drake’s birthday was coming up and a framed photo like this one would make a great gift.
Clover looked at the picture. “Yeah, that’s a good one. You and Freckles were so cute together.”
I put my email address in and tapped a couple of buttons, sending the picture on its way. “Thanks. It was nice of you to take that shot.”
&nb
sp; She basked a little at the praise, and I wondered again how these girls, given such complete freedom at their young age, received their guidance and validation in life. I may have been on my own fairly young, but I had the stability of school and nearby family. I thought of the thousands of little compliments and smiles Elsa had given me over the years. I needed to show more gratitude for it.
Chapter 29
I checked my email the moment I got home. The photo was every bit as nice on a big screen as it had been on Clover’s phone. I found some decent photo paper and printed it. The ink was barely dry when I heard a sound at the front door.
Quickly stashing the picture out of sight I joined Freckles in giving Drake a hearty welcome. With one arm around me and the other hand being kissed by the dog, he beamed.
“How was the job?” I asked.
“Uneventful. The best kind.” As owner, operator and pilot of his own aircraft, the responsibilities sometimes weighed heavily on him. Days that didn’t require a post-flight inspection to investigate a small noise or perform required maintenance were the easiest.
“Right now I just want a shower and then I’m thinking Pedro’s for dinner,” he said.
I’d had such a lazy afternoon, although technically I was on the job, having dinner out seemed in keeping with the tone of the day.
“I’m going to check in with Ron while you shower,” I said, wondering whether my brother’s larger-than-life houseguest was gone yet.
“Invite them along to dinner if you want to.” He began peeling off his flight suit as he headed toward the bathroom.
I didn’t get an answer on Ron’s phone so I left a message stating our intentions and suggested they meet us if they didn’t have other dinner plans. When I clicked off the call I noticed the Facebook app on my screen. I’ve so seldom used the thing I had to go look up my password and mess around with the various icons until I figured it out. The first thing I did was search for Clover and Zayne Delaney.
Alibis Can Be Murder Page 13