Mom Zone Mysteries 02 Staying Home Is a Killer (10 page)

“Well, maybe you can ask them about it at Jeff’s party tomorrow night.”

“Yeah,” I said weakly. I’d completely forgotten about Jeff’s birthday. Abby was throwing a party for him on Wednesday night and she’d invited the whole squadron. I retrieved the iced tea pitcher from the counter and topped off our glasses. On the way back to the fridge, I jotted a note on my pad of sticky notes to buy Jeff a gift. “How’s that going?” I asked as I closed the refrigerator and returned to the table.

“I’ll be cleaning tomorrow afternoon, but I made the lasagna already. I just have to heat it up and toast the garlic bread.”

“I’m bringing ice and Cokes, right?”

“Um-hmm.” Abby stretched her arms over her head and said, “I’d better hit the road. I still have to do laundry so I can pack tomorrow.”

“I think you’re crazy giving a party the day before you leave on a trip.”

Rex let out a sharp bark from the backyard.

Abby shrugged as she picked up her plate and carried it to the sink. “It’s just shorts and swimsuits. It won’t be that hard.”

A gust of freezing wind whipped into the kitchen as I opened the door a crack and let Rex inside. He pranced back and forth from one of us to the other, frisky from being in the cold air. It would be really nice to escape winter for a few days in warm Las Vegas. But then I remembered why Abby and Jeff were taking a short break.

“How’s everything going?”

“Fine. I’m not going to get my hopes up. I’m going to do what everyone keeps telling me to do. ‘Take a cruise. Go on vacation. Relax. Don’t worry about it. It will happen when the time is right.’ What about you? Any signs of a little sibling on the way?”

“No.” Things had been so crazy that I hadn’t even thought about it. “We’re on the Air Force family planning routine. Mitch’s been out of town so much we haven’t even had a chance to try and get pregnant.”

“Tell me about it.”

I could hear the smile in Abby’s voice, but she kept her back to me as she rinsed her plate in the sink. We’d known each other long enough that I could tell she didn’t want to talk about it today. After two miscarriages, Jeff and Abby were still trying to get pregnant. Because it had been ten months since her last miscarriage with no sign of a pregnancy, they were stealing away for a long weekend. “I can’t take off long enough to go on a cruise, but we can go to Las Vegas,” she’d informed me a few weeks ago, her face split in her wide smile that I’d missed recently.

“Call me if you need help tomorrow,” I said.

“Okay.” She stuck the pizza leftovers in the refrigerator and left. I watched her trudge through the snowbanks, head tucked down into the wind, until she rounded the corner and cut through the streetlight’s circle of light. I let the curtain on the kitchen door fall back into place with a tiny sigh for Abby. I wouldn’t trade Livvy for a whole summer of Las Vegas sunshine.

After Abby left, the phone rang. I stared at it while it rang a few times, and then I answered.

“I’ve thought of something,” Mabel said. No “Hello” Or “How are you?” but that was Mabel, straight to the point.

“About Monday, the day Penny died,” Mabel continued. “I’ve been thinking, trying to see if I could remember anything different about the street that day.”

Mabel would notice a leaf out of place, so I said, “And?”

“Well, at first all I could remember were the pickups coming and going at the Wilsons’. They’re remodeling, you know. Kitchen, basement, and adding a deck. Then I remembered the white car. One of those that are so small they almost look like a toy. It was a convertible. The top was closed, of course, but I saw her back out of Penny’s driveway and speed down the street. A woman with dark hair was driving.”

“Really? Did you know her?”

“No. She flew by too fast for me to see her. I’m calling the police tomorrow, but I thought the information might interest you.”

Before I could answer her she’d hung up.

I groped for the phone. In the dark, I patted the nightstand and jerked the phone off the stand. “Yes?”

Silence.

“Hello?”

A tiny click sounded, and then the dial tone droned in my ear. I checked the clock. Ten after twelve. It was probably Mitch calling. If he’d been cut off for some reason, he’d call back. But the numbers on the clock silently transitioned to 12:13 without another phone call.

I clicked on the light and pulled out the phone book. After a few minutes of flipping pages I found the tiny paragraph on call return. I punched star-six-nine.

“We’re sorry. The service you have requested is not available for this number,” an automated voice informed me. I clicked the light back off and snuggled down under the thick blankets, but I didn’t sleep until Mitch returned from his flight at twelve-thirty.

“Are you almost done?” Clarissa snapped from the doorway. “I have to leave for the airport in ten minutes.” She was leaving on a six-day business trip. In her power suit and with her hair up in a twist, she looked like Executive Barbie. Was there an Executive Barbie? From what I remembered, Barbie was heavy on glamorous lifestyles and the serving professions. I didn’t remember a tiny pin-striped suit with a nipped-in waist.

“Yes.” I clicked the top on the last storage bin and hoisted it up into the last open slot in the closet. “Let me gather up my stuff and I’ll be out of here.”

I grabbed my notepad, labels, scissors, and marking pens. I stuffed them into my Tommy Hilfiger tote bag and ran a hand over the comforter to smooth out the wrinkles. As I slipped on my coat, I glanced out the window. Gray clouds skimmed across the sky so low they looked like they were about to snag on the ice-coated treetops. We’d had sleet all night and awoken to a crystallized world. Every branch and twig had a glossy coat of ice.

I slid the bifold closet doors closed.
Oh no.
A small suitcase had been tucked behind the open door next to the wall. I’d seen the dark tapestry suitcase in the closet on the first day, but I’d totally forgotten to make a place for it in the rearranged and neatly organized closet. I could kick myself for not checking behind the doors for any extra items.

I jerked open the doors and scanned the neat arrangement of shelves. I might be able to fit it in a little space on the left side. Clarissa wanted me finished and out of here. She wouldn’t be excited when I said I’d forgotten one item. In fact, I thought I might see the mean side of Barbie if I told her I wasn’t done yet. I grabbed the suitcase and pulled it over.

It was heavy.
Aargh.
Not only had I missed the suitcase, I’d forgotten to check it to see if there was anything in it. I tossed it on the bed and unzipped it. Maybe the things in it were small and I could slide them into the appropriate bins quickly, then stow the suitcase.

I flipped the top back and blinked. Chiffon, silk, and filmy gauze frothed over the suitcase’s zipped edge. Clarissa swept down the hall as fast as her pointy-toed heels would let her, but she didn’t look in the room. I stuffed a red see-through nightie back into the suitcase, but the feathery trim caught on the zipper. I used sparkly sequined mules to hold down the trim and ran the zipper back around the suitcase as fast as I could, but not before my gaze snagged on a pair of lacy, black, crotchless panties. Wow. I zipped up the suitcase, set it down beside the bed, and pulled my tote onto my shoulder. I’d just have to admit I missed the suitcase and offer to return and fix my mistake.

Clarissa flew into the room, attaching her last gold earring. I squared my shoulders and cleared my throat.

“Oh, good. There it is.” She adjusted the double-breasted jacket on her suit until it fell perfectly over her slim hips. Then she pulled out the extendable handle on the suitcase and wheeled it into the hall to stand beside her laptop case and another small carry-on bag.

“Finished?” she asked as she hurried back to open the closet doors and skimmed over the contents. “Looks great. You can follow me out.”

With the laptop and carry-on bag slung over her shoulder, she clattered down the stairs in her heels, dragging the suitcase. I followed her into her garage, where I skirted her white BMW convertible. “Send me the bill for the balance,” she called and slammed the trunk.

It was a good thing she didn’t give me a chance to say anything. I couldn’t have responded. I was speechless. I backed out of the driveway and drove down the street, but something bothered me. Something besides the fact that Clarissa had a lingerie department in her carry-on bag. I glanced in my rearview mirror at Clarissa riding my bumper as I obeyed the low speed limit.

A white convertible!

At the corner stop sign, I put the Cherokee in park, jumped out, and ran back to her car. She powered down the window and I leaned over.

“I don’t have time—”

I interrupted, “You went to Penny’s house last Monday. The day she died.”

Her glossy lips formed a sulky pout. “Look, nothing happened. Sure, I was mad at her. I went to tell her to back off from Jackson.”

“But you were there.”

“I rang the bell. No one answered. I left. End of story. Now I’ve got a flight to catch.” She cranked the steering wheel and I stepped back as she accelerated around the Cherokee with a sharp turn and ran the stop sign.

Chapter Eleven

“E
xcuse me. Excuse me.” I slithered through Abby’s updated kitchen, complete with a dishwasher, and stepped through the sliding glass door, another part of the remodel, onto the deck and left the crowded, overheated rooms. The brisk air cooled my face. The low clouds were gone and the ice-coated trees and bushes glittered in the setting sun.

With my elbows propped on the rail, I took a deep breath of the piney air and tried to gather my thoughts. I hadn’t had a minute to myself since Clarissa trotted away with her lingerie-stuffed suitcase and I wanted to think. I hadn’t mentioned it to anyone, and my instinct was to keep it to myself. Clarissa must be having an affair. Otherwise, why take sexy, lacy underwear on a business trip? A whole suitcase of it, too. But then why would she be jealous of Penny? Maybe she didn’t love Bedford, but she didn’t want to lose him either?

I couldn’t do anything about those questions now, but I could focus on the crew that made Penny uncomfortable. They were the ones who drew the strongest reaction from Penny that morning, and there was something going on from the hints they’d given to Jeff.

A short man with thin blond hair leaned on the other end of the rail, mirroring my posture. “Hi. Aaron, isn’t it?” I asked. He was the new guy on the crew that made Penny nervous.

He walked over to shake my hand. “You’re Ellie. We live across the street from you.”

He returned to his leaning posture and looked back at the trees. “Interesting the way the ice catches the light from the sun. Look at how the ice magnifies the twilight.”

I turned back to the trees and realized the ice-coated needles did seem to glow with the orange of the setting sun. “It’s beautiful.”

The silence began to stretch. I couldn’t dive in and ask him about Penny out of the blue. I’d start off general and try to work the conversation around to her. “How do you like Vernon?” This was one of my stock conversation starters.

Aaron rotated and looked back to the sliding glass door. He ran a hand over the little bit of bland, blond hair he had. The color reminded me of the neutral beige paint on the exterior of every Air Force building. I’d nicknamed it “Pale Blah.”

“It’s fine here.”

Okay, so he wasn’t chatty. This might be harder than I thought. I’d cooled off. Now the air seemed frigid instead of refreshing. My hands started to ache. Aaron took a drink of his beer and I could see his hands were chapped and red with the cold, too.

I glanced back at the glass door. In contrast to the growing darkness outside, light glowed from the uncurtained window. It was like watching a movie with the sound on mute as people moved in front of the window. Mitch walked past with Livvy on his shoulders. Her fingers clutched his hair and I smiled because I could tell she was squealing. I glanced over at Aaron to see if he’d noticed Livvy. Sometimes you can’t help but smile when you’re face-to-face with delight on a two-year-old’s face.

But Aaron was looking at Bree, his wife. Her shocking red hair stood out in little spikes below a black beret as she tilted her head and smiled at Zeke. Against her pale skin, stark black eyeliner and rectangular glasses emphasized green eyes. She spun around to speak to another person. Her flowing multiprint skirt swirled and her long, chuncky necklaces flew.

“That’s Bree, your wife? She’s a painter?” I asked, trying another conversational track.

Aaron’s eyes narrowed and anger seemed to radiate from him. “She paints,” he allowed. It didn’t look like I was going to be able to subtly work Penny’s name into the conversation because so far we hadn’t
had
a conversation. I might as well be blunt.

“Aaron, you were on a crew with Zeke and Rory, right?”

He quickly turned back to the trees and intently studied the view, but the sun had set. There was nothing to see except a black wall of pines. I flexed my fingers and stamped my feet to stay warm. “Did something happen on that flight?”

“Nothing but flying.” He ducked his head and focused on the grain in the wood railing.

Water dripped from the icicles and plinked onto the deck. “But something happened,” I insisted. “Rory acted funny when I asked him about it and he’s been bragging around the squadron. Did it have anything to do with Penny?”

“No. We just flew,” he insisted in a tense whisper I had to strain to hear over the swish of the sliding glass door as it opened.

“Yeah,” a slurred voice came from behind us. “Aaron-boy there can really fly!” Will walked with a sailor’s rolling gait and braced himself against a deck chair. He had returned from the funeral, and apparently he was still trying to drink his sorrow and guilt away. “Aaron, man! He can fly by the seat of his pants!” Will jabbed the air with his can of Bud on the last word.

I glanced at Aaron and then looked closer. He was blushing!

“Or should I say by the seat of his unther—unther—by the seat of his boxers!” Will shouted the last word and leaned over the deck chair laughing.