by Mitzi Kelly
"No, it's not that. For some reason, this looks familiar."
"Maybe in your younger days you used to run the streets around here," Millie suggested with a sly grin.
Edna frowned. "That's not likely." So far, all they had seen on Roosevelt Street were bars and fast-food places. Trish chuckled. Try as she might, the image of Edna running in to grab a quick hamburger between barhopping was impossible to conjure up, regardless of how young she may have been.
Finally, neighborhoods starting sprouting up on both sides of the street. They passed a small undeveloped stretch of land when Edna said, "It should be right up here on the right."
Millie leaned forward in her seat and peered through the front window. "Oh, no, it can't be!" she whispered at the same time Trish pulled over on the shoulder of the street and slammed on the brakes.
"Oh, no, is right," Trish replied.
Trish was just a few yards from the address that should be Tom Jones'. And that address sported a large sign at the entrance that read Southwest Mobile Home Park. There was silence in the car as all three women pondered this latest development. Trish turned the car around and headed back home. No wonder Roosevelt Street had sounded familiar. They had just traveled a different route to get to it this time. Evidently, Mary Chavez knew a shortcut.
Sam was more than eager to do his part in trying to determine if the earrings that Mary Chavez wore were indeed his wife's. He was so eager, in fact, that Joe had to coach him several times on how to act calm and natural both before, and after, his encounter with Mary. If she grew suspicious, then she would get rid of the evidence before any of them could blink, thereby destroying any chance they would have of going to the police. "He said-she said" wouldn't go over too well with Henry-not since he already believed Sam was only trying to cover up a crime.
They all agreed not to tell Sam about Mary's visit to Tom yet. He had enough on his plate right now without adding fuel to the fire. If he got angry before his meeting with Mary, he could very well spill the beans.
Sam strode casually into the restaurant while Joe and the women waited outside in Joe's SUV. They were parked around back where there were no windows for them to see what was going on inside, but, more importantly, nobody from inside the restaurant could see them, either. Was Sam talking to Mary right now?
Trish found it hard to believe that their sweet waitress of the night before could be capable of murder. Still, more and more women were committing violent crimes. Passion, jealousy, money ... all these motives could possibly make a woman snap. But what could have been Mary's motive? She doubted Mary was in love with Sam, so that ruled out passion and jealousy. Killing Susan for financial gain didn't make sense because there had been no theft until long after the murder.
Trish sighed and leaned her head back on the car seat. Why try to rationalize a crime that only someone completely insane would justify? It was impossible. On second thought ... Trish had just turned to Millie with a teasing smile when she caught sight of Sam coming around the corner of the building. That was fast! He was walking briskly, his lips in a tight line. Trish's heartbeat sped up. Had he discovered whether the earrings were Susan's or not?
Sam climbed in and shut the door. "Let's get out of here"
Joe looked at him curiously. "Is everything all right?"
"Everything's fine," he said through gritted teeth, "just highly embarrassing. Mary wasn't wearing any earrings. I wanted so badly to question her about them" Sam's hands were clenched in tight fists where they lay on his lap. "When she saw me, she did everything she could to avoid me, but I guess she couldn't find anyone else available to wait on me. When she finally came over, she was overtly rude, making several snide remarks that anybody who was within the length of a football field could hear. Stuff like `waitressing wasn't her first career choice, and was I able to make sure everybody else got fired, too?"' Sam shook his head. "To think I used to feel sorry for her."
Trish's heart sank. She looked at Edna and Millie who, by the expressions on their faces, felt the same way she did. What a wasted endeavor this had been. The earrings were such a strong clue, and they had pinned their hopes that a positive ID of them would guide the next step in their investigation. How were they going to get Sam to see them now? He couldn't very well march into the restaurant night after night in the hopes that one evening Mary would be wearing them.
"I'm sorry you had to go through that, Sam," Edna said soothingly. "I didn't get the impression that Mary could be that vindictive."
"Appearances can be deceiving, especially when you're trying to earn a tip," Millie said wryly. "What concerns me now is how are we going to prove those earrings are Susan's?"
"Maybe we should go ahead and tell Henry what we suspect," Edna suggested.
Sam chuckled bitterly. "I'm sure that would do a lot of good"
"We'll think of something," Millie piped in. "Don't you worry. I've got a hunch we're on the right track, and with or without the help of the police, we're going to prove it."
Trish bit her lip. There Millie goes again, promising results that are not at all certain. What they had was a lot of nothing, and that included not a shred of evidence that would back up even one of their theories.
"Sam, what kind of relationship did Mary Chavez and Tom Jones have?" she asked as Joe pulled out of the parking lot. There wasn't any point in keeping information from him any longer.
Sam looked over his shoulder with raised eyebrows, obviously surprised at the question. "Relationship? Mary and Tom? They didn't have a relationship. They were both married."
"I didn't mean a personal relationship," Trish said. "How did they get along at work?"
"They barely did," Sam scoffed. "They couldn't stand each other. Mary was always complaining about Tom's reports, and Tom was always saying that Mary picked on him to hide the fact she wasn't doing her job"
"Maybe they were hiding an attraction they felt for each other," Millie offered, nodding knowingly. "It's not unheard of for some people to use anger as a flirting method"
"That's not possible," Sam said, shaking his head. "You would have to have seen them together. No, there wasn't anything personal going on between Tom and Mary, and they had very little to do with each other at work. Regardless, what does Tom have to do with any of this, anyway?"
Edna proceeded to tell Sam what they'd witnessed when they had followed Mary that day. His brows furrowed as he listened to her. "Well, it does seem strange that they would have anything to do with each other. I can't imagine what it means, though. I seem to recall hearing that Tom got a divorce not too long ago, but I can't say for sure. And, as far as I know, Mary is still married" He sighed and rubbed his hand across his eyes. "I can't see how any of this could be tied to Susan's death. The earrings bother me, but we don't know if they are Susan's or not. And, for the life of me, I can't imagine Mary or Tom going to such lengths to hurt me"
Trish heard the frustration in his voice and she could well sympathize. He was facing a murder charge, and it seemed as if they were getting nowhere. They dropped Sam off at his sister's house, promising to get together with him in the next day or so when they had another plan.
Joe drove home in silence. When he pulled up in front of Trish's house, Edna climbed out also, telling him she would be home soon. This was a time for brainstorming, and Joe had a frustrating way of inserting common sense into these kinds of sessions.
Trish immediately started a fresh pot of coffee, regardless of the time, and they sat at the table waiting for it to finish brewing. "I'm tired of pussy-footing around," Millie said. "We're going to have to make something happen"
"Like what?" Edna asked warily.
"I don't know what. I just know that we need to do something ... anything!"
Trish sighed. "I hate to admit it, but I agree" She paused for a second. "The one thing we do know is that Mary has some connection to Tom Jones. What we don't know is what that connection is. So that's where we need to start. We need to find out some basic info
rmation about Tom, where he works, what his schedule is, things like that. Maybe an idea will come to us"
Millie nodded determinedly. "Okay, at least we have a plan. Edna, you bring something for us to snack on, I'll bring the binoculars, and Trish, you bring drinks. We'll meet here at ten in the morning."
Trish looked at Edna with raised eyebrows. Should they stand up and salute?
The next day was a bright, beautiful day with soft clouds hanging in the sky and the comforting smell of spring wafting through the open windows. They had parked on one of the side streets across and down from Tom Jones' trailer. They could have been visiting any one of several trailers from their strategic vantage point, but it was unlikely anybody would notice. The place was like a ghost town.
"Did you ever call Joe?" Millie asked Edna as she lowered the binoculars. They had been watching Tom's trailer for over an hour now. The same older-model red pickup they had seen the other day was in the driveway, but there had been no movement around the trailer at all.
"You know I haven't," Edna said impatiently-and with a little guilt. "I've been with you all morning. I'm going to wait a little while before I tell him where I am. That way he won't worry-he won't know how long we were actually here"
"So much for your handy-dandy cell phone," Millie muttered under her breath.
"I heard that!"
"I don't know about you guys, but I'm getting hungry," Trish said. They were all getting bored, but the last thing she wanted was for Millie and Edna to get into one of their squabbles. Her patience would only stretch so far and she didn't want to be distracted from her thoughts. There had to be another way to approach Mary again without appearing too obvious. She was also having second thoughts about their decision not to tell the police their suspicions regarding Sam's former bookkeeper. Maybe she could at least convince her friends that they should talk to Larry Thompson. He didn't seem to think they were all off their rockers like the chief did.
"We're not stupid, Trish. We know what you're doing," Edna said with a sniff.
Startled, Trish looked over her shoulder. Was Edna a mind reader now? Then she realized that Edna must be referring about her attempt to keep the peace with the mention of food. "Then why couldn't you have stopped arguing on your own?" she snapped, and then she sighed deeply and leaned her head against the headrest. "Sorry, I'm just frustrated. I can't help but feel we're wasting our time."
Millie reached over and patted her on the knee. "Don't worry about it. We're all a little short-tempered right now. I think you're right, we need something to eat. At least it will give us something to do."
"Right," Edna said cheerfully, "we'll all feel better after we eat" Lifting up the wicker basket she had placed on the back floorboard, she proceeded to pass out napkins and bottled water. Next, she handed Millie and Trish blue plastic-covered bowls with plastic forks.
"What's this?" Millie asked, warily prying open one edge of the lid.
"It's salad"
Trish turned to look at Edna. "You brought saladfor a stake-out?"
"Of course," she said primly. "Just because we're working doesn't mean we can't eat healthy food. I already put my special dressing on it."
"And you call me crazy?" Millie exclaimed. "I was expecting finger food, you know, sandwiches, crackers and cheese, cookies ... even doughnuts-not salad!"
"Well, next time you can bring the food," Edna said sarcastically. "In the meantime, eat or shut up"
Millie stared at her for a minute, then plopped back in her seat and jammed her fork into the greens. "Out of all the possible stake-out-worthy foods I could've had, I'm stuck eating this wimpy salad," she muttered in disgust.
Refraining from saying anything out loud, Trish sighed and opened her own bowl, promising herself a fat, juicy hamburger later on. She had just taken her first bite when a movement caught her attention. Looking up quickly, she saw Tom Jones come out of his mobile home and head toward his truck. He was wearing an open, dark flannel shirt over a while T-shirt and wellworn jeans. A blue baseball cap partly hid his facial features, but Trish got the distinct impression he wasn't a happy man right now.
Hurriedly, she swallowed and replaced the lid on her bowl. "There he is! He's getting ready to leave."
"Bingo!" Millie mumbled excitedly. Shoving one more bite into her already-full mouth, she sat up straight and began to close her lunch.
Edna was doing the same in the backseat and directing them to give her the bowls. "Finally, some action!" she exclaimed.
Trish pulled on her seat belt and waited until Tom had reached the end of the block before she pulled out to follow him. The excitement in the car was almost palpable. Millie had pulled the binoculars up to her eyes, even though Tom was only a few yards in front of them, and a quick glance in the rearview mirror showed Edna sitting forward, a gleeful smile on her face and her eyes wide open.
Nobody was quite sure where they expected Tom to go, but not one of them thought they would end up on Mary's street. "We've already established that Tom and Mary are seeing each other," Millie said, the disappointment clear in her voice.
Edna sighed audibly. "If all we're going to do is follow Mary and Tom back and forth to each other's house, we're never going to be able to help Sam"
Trish circled the block and drove by Mary's house one more time. Tom must have already gone inside. "There's not much else we can do today, regardless," she said crossly, pointing the car toward home. "In the last few days, we've established that Tom and Mary have kept up their acquaintance since leaving Sam, and that it's possible Mary has the same pair of earrings that Susan had, none of which proves that Tom or Mary was anywhere near Sam's house the day Susan was murdered."
"I still say the earrings Mary was wearing that night belong to Susan," Millie said.
"But we can't prove it," Edna said dejectedly.
Millie cocked her head to one side. "What if we point-blank ask her?"
Trish looked at her as if she had lost her mind. "And what do you think that would accomplish? You think she's just going to admit that she took them after she killed Susan?"
"No, but we could watch her reaction. If we get sus picious, we go to the police and tell them to check it out."
"She would get rid of them before that happened," Trish pointed out. "And that's assuming we could even get Henry to go over there. The odds aren't too good on that happening."
"You're right," Millie said wryly. "I'd rather try my luck in Vegas"
They fell silent the rest of the way home, each trying to think of a way to jump-start their investigation again. They had been so sure that, with a little snooping around, they would be able to come up with realistic suspects that would force the police to reconsider Sam as their primary target in the murder charge.
More than likely, it was just pure coincidence that Tom and Mary, the two people who were angry at Sam for selling his business, were still seeing each other. The problem was Trish didn't believe in coincidences. And there was that tiny fact that Mary had been wearing earrings that were identical to the ones stolen recently from Sam's house. There was a connection there, Trish was sure of it. But how were they to prove it?
She pulled into her driveway and stopped the car. "Look, I know none of us is comfortable going to the police. But what if we talked to Larry? He seems openminded to new possibilities, and I'm pretty sure we can trust him. I don't think he's said anything to Henry about checking out Mark for us "
"No, I don't think so, either. We would have heard about it, I'm sure," Edna agreed. "You might have an idea. What do you think, Millie?"
Millie frowned and crossed her arms. "I thought we were going to try and solve this ourselves. Are you both giving up so soon? Goodness, the first sign of frustration and you just want to throw in the towel."
"Don't get so dramatic," Trish said, rolling her eyes. "Face it, we need some help. We don't have to tell Larry everything"
Millie looked sideways at her and then finally shrugged. "Okay," she said, lettin
g out a deep breath in resignation, "let's talk to Larry about the earrings. We can always say we ran across Mary by accident and recognized the earrings, and that we're concerned because of the theft at Sam's."
"But we don't want to say anything, at this point, about Tom and that we know he and Mary are in touch with each other," Edna inserted quickly. "Otherwise, he'll know we've been following them."
Trish nodded. "I agree"
Millie opened the car door. "I'll call Larry and tell him to come over to your house tomorrow morning, Trish. Edna and I will come over early. We'll decide what to do next after we hear what Larry has to say." She stepped out and then leaned back in. "Oh, and Edna, thanks so much for the salad. Next time, I'll bring lunch." With that she slammed the car door and marched across the street.
"What does she mean next time?" Trish asked with raised eyebrows.
"I've got a sneaky hunch she won't be bringing salad," Edna said with a cocky grin.
Later that night, Trish found herself walking aimlessly from room to room. She was restless, unable to relax, and didn't have a clue as to why. She pulled the front curtains aside and glanced over at Millie's house-for the third time in the last hour.
Ever since Millie's house had been broken into, Trish had fallen into a pattern of checking on her friend several times a night-not that she would ever tell Millie. No, hard-headed as ever, Millie had insisted on staying in her own house after that first night she had spent with Trish. No bully was going to alter her lifestyle, she had declared adamantly when both Trish and Edna had tried to convince her that she shouldn't be alone just yet.
Trish didn't think it was just a bored "bully" that had broken into Millie's house. Whoever had gotten inside had something to do with Susan's murder. She was sure of it. How else could the disappearance of Millie's address book be explained, the one that had the combination to Sam's safe?
Millie's independence was one of the things Trish most admired about her friend, but right now that trait was a major pain in the neck. All she could do was try to keep an eye out for her from a distance and hope she would notice if anything strange was going on.