by Mitzi Kelly
"And stop whispering!" Trish said between clenched teeth. "He certainly can't hear us"
"Okay!" Millie shouted, causing all of them to jump. "Any other orders?"
Edna startled giggling as she sat up straight. "I'd say we're a little tense, wouldn't you?"
Trish just shook her head and looked out her window. "Where did he go?"
"In that red pickup truck over there," Millie said, motioning with her head. Quickly, she exchanged her regular glasses for dark sunglasses, pulled down the sun visor in front of her, and fastened her seat belt. "Let's go"
Trish cocked both eyebrows and looked at her for a moment. She wouldn't be surprised if Millie also carried a decoder ring and a secret phone in the bottom of her red tennis shoe. Millie sighed impatiently. "Let's goy"
The pickup truck was pulling out of the parking lot. Trish slowly fell in behind, following at a safe distance. They didn't have far to go. Mark Wilson turned into a nearby strip center and parked in front of a busy cafe advertising daily lunch specials on the front glass. "Joe and I have eaten here before," Edna said. "The food is really good, and they're famous for their apple pie."
Trish's stomach rumbled its own opinion. Guiltily, she thought about her twice-used exercise equipment at home, but then shoved the thought from her mind. She was working, for goodness' sake. She needed the energy. Besides, who in their right mind would pass up apple pie?
"I'm not in the mood for apple pie," Millie said thoughtfully as she pushed the sun visor up. "That meatloaf special on that poster in the window sounds good, though."
"Are we here to investigate the menu or Mark Wilson?" Trish asked irritably. "Okay, look, we need to remember the plan. We walk in, very casually, and find a table. Then we happen to notice Mark. If he's sitting alone, we ask him to join us and then bring up the subject of how his job is going since Sam sold his business and then Susan's death. Watch carefully for any strange expressions or a sudden change in his tone. Of course, if he's sitting with somebody, then we wait him out and confront him in the parking lot right before he leaves. Remember, we're going to act casual and unobtrusive. Has everybody got it?"
"Got it," Millie and Edna responded in unison. Millie pushed open the car door and scrambled out. "Let's go.
So much for subtlety, Trish thought with exasperation a few seconds later. Millie barreled through the door and headed straight for the table where Mark sat. A waitress had just placed a glass of iced tea in front of him. "Hello, Mark! What a surprise to see you here. Do you mind if we join you?"
He didn't have time to answer. In the process of adding sugar to his iced tea, he watched Millie plop down across from him.
Edna shot him a quick, apologetic smile. "How nice to see you again, Mark."
Mark laid his spoon on the table, his eyes round with surprise. "Uh ... yes, same here"
Trish tried to smooth over the awkward moment. He obviously didn't remember them. "Gosh, I guess the last time we saw you was at Susan Wiley's funeral. I know Sam appreciated your coming." She saw recognition register in Mark's mind and breathed a sigh of relief.
"Do you still keep in touch with him?" Millie asked sharply as she peered over the top of her menu. Thankfully the waitress appeared just then to take their order, so the quick kick Trish gave Millie under the table went unnoticed. As soon as they got back home Trish was going to make Millie write the word subtle one hundred times !
As soon as the waitress left, Edna started up the conversation with a friendly smile at Mark. "Are you still in the same line of work?"
Mark leaned back in his chair. The shell-shocked expression he'd been wearing on his face ever since they had bulldozed their way to his table seemed to be easing somewhat. "Yes, I am. As a matter of fact, I work for Bennie Johnson, the man who bought out Sam. Bennie's a nice guy. I'm basically doing the same thing I did for Sam."
"Oh? And what exactly is that?" Edna asked sincerely.
Mark began discussing his job function and the similarities and differences in the work he now did for Bennie all during the meal. Trish sipped her iced tea and breathed a sigh of relief. Edna had drawn Mark into easy and friendly conversation so that now when the pertinent questions came he probably wouldn't become suspicious-unless, of course, Millie opened her mouth again. But they were running out of time. Mark probably only had an hour for lunch, and the clock was running fast.
"Sam had a lot of loyal employees. I'll bet some weren't so thrilled when he decided to retire and sell his business." Trish had to fight to keep her mouth from dropping open. It was a perfect segue into the answers they were looking for ... and from Millie, no less!
Mark gave a slight chuckle. "You can say that again. Most of us were happy for him, but there were a couple who were downright mad."
Trish's ears perked up. "Oh?"
"Yeah. Mary Chavez, Sam's bookkeeper, complained for days. When Sam found out that Bennie had his own bookkeeper, he tried to help Mary find another job. He even set up some interviews for her. But she still kept blaming Sam for ruining her life, as she put it, and didn't even try to get another job. Sam gave her a month's severance pay even though she stormed out of the office the day before he officially retired."
Edna shook her head. "Some people you just can't help no matter how much you may want to"
Mark agreed. "She wasn't even that good a bookkeeper. She called in sick quite a lot and was always behind on deadlines, but Sam kept working with her." Trish caught Millie's eye across the table. Mary Chavez's name was on the list Sam had given them.
"That's such a shame," Edna murmured. "You said there were a couple of people upset. Did anybody else feel the same way as Mary?" Edna asked the question nonchalantly as she took another bite of her pie. Millie also stayed silent as they watched Edna artfully draw information from Mark. He appeared genuinely happy with his position under Bennie's ownership, and if he held any hard feelings against Sam, he was hiding it extremely well.
He shrugged as he leaned back in his chair and dropped his napkin on his plate. "Most of us kept our jobs, those who wanted to, anyway. Old Tom Jones stayed on for a while, but he was really upset that Sam didn't sell the business to him-as if he had the money! Anyway, Bennie didn't much like him, so when Tom demanded more money, Bennie refused, and Tom up and quit."
Tom Jones-Trish was quite sure that name had also appeared on Sam's list. "What is he doing now?"
Mark shrugged. "I'm not sure. I heard he tried making it as a subcontractor for a while, but he was overcharging and underperforming. Word gets around in the construction business. If you take advantage of people, you're more or less black-balled. He's probably drawing unemployment and blaming the world for his problems."
Trish wanted to know more about Mary's and Tom's general attitudes and if there was anybody else who might be holding a grudge against Sam Wiley, but Mark signaled to the waitress for his check. "I have to go check on a crew. I really enjoyed seeing you ladies again. Tell Sam I said hello when you see him." Mark smiled, unfolded his tall frame from the chair, and nodded a redundant good-bye. Trish watched him leave, a thoughtful expression on her face.
"So, what did you think?" Millie asked around a mouthful of pie. "I don't think he's our man."
"Neither do I," Edna sighed. "Mark's a nice man and appears to have been a loyal employee. He doesn't seem to think too much of Mary Chavez or Tom Jones, though."
"I agree," Trish said. "I wish we could have talked to him longer. I'd like to know more details about any confrontations he might have witnessed between them and Sam."
"I would have asked him," Millie said sweetly, "but I was afraid I'd get kicked again."
Trish rolled her eyes. "You'd better start thinking before you just blurt out the first thing on your mind, or next time I'm wearing steel-toed boots"
"That's an attractive image," Millie muttered as she dropped her napkin onto her plate.
Joe hadn't returned from his bowling game when they got back to Trish's house. Edna reached him on h
is cell phone, and, as promised, filled him in on what they had found out. He agreed to go by to see Sam and find out if there had been any strange encounters with any of his former employees, especially Mary or Tom.
Trish was preparing coffee when the doorbell rang. "I'll get it," Millie said, placing her pen on the paper where she had just crossed Mark Wilson's name off the list and rising to answer the door.
"If it's a salesman, I'm not here!" Trish shouted after her.
But it wasn't a salesman. Henry Espinoza followed Millie into the kitchen. "Good afternoon," he said with a nod to Trish and Edna.
"Hello, Chief," Edna said with a welcome smile. "Sit down. We were just about to have some coffee. Would you like some?"
"Thank you, I'd love some. I was hoping you'd be over here, Millie," he said, lowering himself into one of the chairs at the table.
"Would you like cream and sugar?" Trish asked with a quick glance in his direction. Henry looked quite attractive in the dark green polo shirt and jeans, not quite so stern and ... official.
"Just black. I came by to tell Millie that, unfortunately, the fingerprints didn't reveal anything."
"It doesn't surprise me," Millie said with a shrug. "I really didn't think we'd find out who did it that easily."
"It was a long shot," Henry agreed. "We'll schedule a patrol car to drive by at different times during the night shift for the next few days, to see if we spot anybody acting suspicious. That's about all we can do at this point. You never know-we may get lucky. According to Larry, the only thing you noticed missing was your address book, right?"
Millie nodded. "That's right. It's the one that had the combination to Sam's safe in it."
"Millie..."
"Don't worry, Henry. It would probably give me a heart attack if you took our theory seriously. You can thank us later."
Trish hurriedly changed the subject before Millie and Henry went another round. "Larry Thompson is such a nice young man. Does he have a family?"
"No, he's single. His parents still live in Houston where he was raised. He came to work for us about a year ago. He's a great guy and good at his job"
"We're counting on it," Millie muttered.
"What was that?"
"Nothing. Any new clues on who killed Susan Wiley?"
Henry looked at her wryly. "I was about to ask you the same thing."
Millie gave a good impression of being taken aback. "Why would you ask that?"
Henry raised his eyebrows. Please, dear Lord, Trish prayed silently, don't let Millie mention Mark and what he had told them today. Henry would just give them another lecture about all the evidence pointing to Sam.
"Our opinion hasn't changed," Edna said. "The truth will come out, hopefully sooner rather than later, but, regardless, we know Sam is not guilty."
Henry looked at them intently for a moment. Millie, blessedly, kept her mouth closed under the scrutiny, even though she looked guilty as sin. Finally, Henry sighed and drained his coffee. "Well, I just wanted to let you know about the fingerprints and to make sure you got your door repaired. You still need to be careful and stay aware of your surroundings. The thief probably won't be back, but you don't want to take anything for granted"
Trish stood also and walked toward the door. "Thank you, Henry. We'll all keep an eye out and let you know if we see anything out of the ordinary." She breathed a sigh of relief when he said good-bye and left. She knew Millie could only contain herself for so long.
When she went back into the kitchen, Edna and Millie were deep in discussion. "That's a good idea," Edna was saying.
"What is?" Trish asked as she sank down into the chair.
"We're going to find out where Mary Chavez and Tom Jones live while it's still daylight."
Trish raised one eyebrow. "Why do we want to know where they live?"
"Because," Millie said impatiently, "first, we find out where they live. Then we find out where they work, and then we find out if they hang out anywhere. If, by chance, either one of them is guilty, we sure aren't going to find any clues around here. We need to go to their turf."
Trish paused. Their turf? "Why don't we just ask Sam? He may know where they live."
"And let everybody know what we're up to? All we'll get is another lecture to just let the authorities handle it."
"But, Edna," Trish pointed out, "you promised to tell Joe everything."
"I know. And I'm going to. I'm going home right now and leave Joe a note"
Trish's lips twisted. "Why don't you just call him?"
"I don't want to interrupt him."
"Besides," Millie added, "he's probably with Sam right-now.'-'-
Trish's lips twisted again. "Flimsy."
"Yeah, but we'll probably get away with it," Millie said with a saucy grin. "You get on your computer and do one of those search things to get their addresses. Edna, you run home and leave that note, and I need to go grab something. We'll meet back here."
Fifteen minutes later, armed with directions and Millie's binoculars-the all-important "something" Millie had grabbed from her house, for what purpose Trish and Edna couldn't fathom-the three women climbed into Trish's car and headed toward Mary Chavez' house. According to the information Trish had gathered, she was married and lived in the southern part of San Antonio in an older residential neighborhood. It shouldn't take more than twenty minutes to get there.
It took thirty-five. After two wrong turns navigating through unexpected road construction, they finally found the small red brick house. "Someone's home," Millie whispered as she slumped low in her seat. "See the car in the driveway?"
"Millie, sit up! And stop that whispering. You're making me nervous. Who do you think is going to overhear us?"
Millie ignored her. "Aren't you going to stop?"
"Oh, that wouldn't look suspicious at all, would it? No, I'm going to circle the block. Edna, when we pass the house again, try to memorize any of the car details so we'll know it if we spot it again. Then we'll cruise around the neighborhood a bit and see if we can find out where Mary does her grocery shopping and stuff like that. We've got to find a way to bump into her somehow so that we can strike up a conversation."
Edna nodded eagerly as she sat up straighter in the back seat and pulled a small pad and pen from her purse. "Okay, that's a good idea."
"What makes you think Mary is going grocery shopping today?" Millie asked.
Trish glanced over at her friend sardonically. "I don't. It could take several trips over here before we get a chance to talk to her. We'll have to come by at different times to get an idea of what her schedule is."
Millie nodded slowly. "That's a good plan," she said approvingly. "What are we going to say to her when the opportunity presents itself?"
"I've been giving that some thought. We are going to have to pretend that we've met her before when she was working for Sam."
"Oh, Trish, that's brilliant!" Edna exclaimed when Trish once again turned onto Mary's street. "That will work."
Millie seemed to mull the plan over in her mind. "Edna's right, Trish. It is a good idea. And it gives us the perfect opening to talk about Sam"
"Shh!" Edna ordered. "I need to concentrate"
Millie hunkered down in the front seat and Edna peered through the side window as if her life depended on it when Trish drove past Mary's house again. "I got it," Edna said with satisfaction. "It's a white Dodge Intrepid, late-model with a small American flag on the rear window."
"Good job," Millie cheered, winning her a pleased smile from Edna.
Trish grinned. Whether their efforts to find out if Mary Chavez was somehow involved in Susan's death led to anything or not, it still felt good to actually be doing something. They needed a break in this case. Then she groaned, realizing she was starting to think like one of the television cops Millie loved so much.
It was on their third trip to Mary's house that they finally got lucky. Trish had just passed the house and was rolling to a stop at the end of the block. By ch
ance, she glanced in her rearview mirror. "Oh-oh," she muttered.
Millie had started to sit back up in her seat, but at Trish's words she slid back down. "What's wrong?" For some reason, Millie thought it was important that she do her "observing" from the floor board. It wouldn't be so bad if she didn't demand constant updates on what was going on.
"That Dodge Intrepid just pulled out of the driveway and is heading this way"
"Oh, my goodness!" Edna exclaimed. "Hurry, get out of here! We can't be seen, or it will ruin our plan." Edna's head whipped forward and backward in time to her frantic words, as if she couldn't decide whether to look at the approaching car or her companions in the front seat.
Trish quickly turned right, her eyes darting to the rearview mirror. Had they aroused suspicion by circling the block or driving too slowly? But the car turned left, and Trish let out the air she had been holding. Millie eyed her speculatively. "You know, Mary might be going grocery shopping, after all. It would be a shame to miss this opportunity."
"I can't even see who is driving the car, Millie. It might not be Mary at all"
"There's only one way to find out. Hurry up around the block again and get behind that car."
Trish met Edna's eyes in the rearview mirror. After a few seconds, Edna took a deep breath and nodded. "She's right. Let's do it."
Trish made a quick turn, causing Millie's head to bounce off the side door. She couldn't help but grin. "I'm sorry. That wasn't intentional."
Millie just looked at her wryly. "Of course it wasn't."
"There it is," Edna said. "The car just made a left turn-hurry !"
"We don't want to get too close, Edna. There isn't much traffic-we shouldn't have too much trouble following."
"But," Millie reminded them, "we do need to see if it's a man or a woman driving."
"True," Trish said with a nod. "I'll get close enough to see, and then I'll back off again." When she made the left turn, she spotted the white car a couple of streets ahead of them. She sped up slightly to get closer to the car. "It's a woman," she said softly as she spotted the back of the driver with a ponytail and long, dangling earrings.