Broken Vows Mystery 03-In Sickness and in Death (14 page)

“What’s the magic word?”

Danny wrinkled his brow and thought for a moment. I began to despair in earnest for his upbringing. Finally, he got it. “Please?”

“First take your dishes to the sink.”

Danny carried them over, then disappeared into the living room. I expected to hear the television again. Instead, he reappeared with his backpack in hand. “I have homework.” He stared pointedly at the table.

I scrambled to my feet. “Let me clear the dishes and you can sit here to do it.”

Ray helped me carry the dishes to the sink. He leaned close to my ear. “Good to see him showing some responsibility. I’ll go make those calls.”

I started to load the dishwasher. “I need to run over to The Lincoln House and ask some of the dinner shift crew about Erica and Maury Boor. Maybe one of them knows more about Maury.”

“Go ahead. I’ll babysit.”

I wanted to tell Ray that it’s not babysitting when it’s your own child, but, then, Danny wasn’t really our child. He was definitely temporary; just how temporary, Social Services and the penal system would have to determine. Four years for car theft was a far cry from a murder sentence. I wasn’t naïve enough to hope Jessica James was still alive. I could only hope Danny’s father wouldn’t be convicted of killing her. Danny wanted to be with his father, and, even with his obvious faults, his father did love Danny.

Just like I loved my sister. But, boy, could she be a pain in the ass. As I guided my Lexus over the roadways in the direction of The Lincoln House, I thought about the dozens of other times Ray or I had set off in search of her. The last time she’d been released from the psych center, Dr. Albert had said she wouldn’t ever come back. Of course, he might not have anticipated her “cure” and subsequent decision not to take her meds. Maybe he should have, though. It wasn’t all that uncommon for patients to think they no longer needed their medicine. Was he not as good a doctor as I thought? Maybe his statement had even given her the impression she was cured. Would I have to find her a new shrink, too? I hoped not.

The Porsche still shone under the street lights at the back of The Lincoln House’s parking lot. I peeked inside to see if she’d left any clues. I saw piles of beer caps and wine corks on the back seat. Erica collected them and stored them in shoeboxes. She labored under the delusion that her collection would be sold for money some day. I also spotted half a matchbox. The label was covered by a cork. I tugged on the door handle. Of course, she’d remembered to lock it. I’d have to look for the spare key in her apartment.

I went inside the restaurant and introduced myself to the hostess, an older woman who seemed to recognize me. When I explained about Erica, she expressed her sympathy.

“She’s a sweet girl, but lately she’s been a little … cranky. I tried to help clear a table in the barroom last week, and she bit my head off. Accused me of trying to steal her tip, which was ridiculous. I did see her leave with that dark-haired man. One of the girls said she knew him.” She pointed her index finger at me. “Wait here a minute.”

She returned, followed by a brunette with a ponytail, wearing the black pants, white shirt and the tie of a server. “Patty knows him.”

The brunette’s ponytail swished behind her as she nodded. “Maury Boor. Class of ’90. He sat next to me in homeroom and at graduation. Real quiet. He’s grown a couple feet since then. He’s kinda cute now.”

“Do you know where he lives?”

“I thought he lived outside Buffalo, but I’m not sure. Try the phone book.”

“I did, online. I couldn’t find him.”

“Did you use his real first name?”

I tipped my head. “I thought it was Maurice.”

“No, it’s Emerson. That was his dad’s name, too, so they called him Maury. Maurice is his middle name.”

I thanked her for the information and headed for home. When I walked in, I found Danny in front of the television. Ray was in our office, on the phone.

He motioned me inside as he hung up. “Syracuse issued one season ticket to an Emerson Boor. He gave an address in Geneseo. Could that be Maury’s father?”

“It could be Maury. One of the waitresses who graduated with him said he was named after his father, Emerson. But she thought he lived in Buffalo.”

“The basketball season started over a month ago. I’m sure the University sent the ticket out months before that. Maybe he moved. I’ll call the department and have him run through DMV and check for a record on Emerson Boor. He’s somewhere close by.” Ray picked up the phone again.

I sank into an armchair to wait.

Ray didn’t seem to like the answers he got. A muscle in his cheek twitched as he listened. I leaned closer, trying to hear.

“Good work. Thanks for checking.” He hung up and rubbed the five o’clock shadow on his chin, making a rasping noise that sent shivers down my spine.

“DMV’s last known address for Boor is Buffalo. They’re sending his picture. I can start showing it around tomorrow. But there’s bad news, Darlin’. Emerson Maurice Boor, age thirty-five, has an arrest record in Geneseo for stalking a female co-worker.”

____

Tuesday morning I awoke after another nearly sleepless night, rolled out of bed too fast, and had to grab the bedpost because the room swayed. In fact, my whole life swayed. My sister was in the hands of a stalker, and my foster child might be about to learn his father was a murderer—and I didn’t think I could do much to protect either of them. I hated to be so helpless.

Ray had kissed me goodbye around six, eager to check out Erica’s apartment and hunt for Maury Boor. While he hadn’t been interested in Erica’s disappearance days ago, the fact that he was now on patrol, coupled with Maury’s record, made her top priority. I think he figured Maury had psycho killer potential, but he didn’t want to alarm me. He never liked to alarm me. Hence, he tended to hide things from me. This time it was too late—I had already made the leap myself.

I drove Danny to school and waited until he’d vanished into the stream of children walking through its front doors. He seemed to have a spring in his step this morning, maybe because Ray had asked me to bring Danny to the public safety building at seven p.m. tonight to visit his father. When I told Danny the plan at breakfast, his eyes had lit up, and he couldn’t wait to go out the door and get the day started. Perhaps he thought it would pass more quickly if he got the jump on it. I, on the other hand, dreaded what his visit to his father might bring, fearing Danny wouldn’t hold up well to learning about his mother’s and his aunt’s deaths, not to mention the fact that the police now considered his father to be their number one suspect.

At nine-ten I walked into the showroom. The door was unlocked. The bells jingled to announce my arrival, but Cory did not appear. I headed toward the garage entrance.

“Over here.”

I jumped. My purse dropped to the floor. I turned to find Cory sitting behind the wheel of the Ferrari in the middle of the showroom floor.

He waggled his fingers at me. “Sorry.”

I picked up my purse and walked over to climb into the passenger’s seat.

The moment my butt hit the seat, I remembered that a dead man had been the last one to … ah … rest on it. I blocked that memory out of my mind and closed the door. If I couldn’t get past it, how could I expect a customer to?

“Why are you sitting here, Cory?”

“Brennan and I watched some old black and white movies last night, the kind where the couples sat in the cars as though they were driving and the scenery moved past them.”

I smiled. “Ah, yes.”

“I don’t have anything to work on this morning, so I’m pretending Monte Carlo is moving past.”

I leaned my head against the seat rest. “Is it hot out?”

“Very. Not a cloud in the sky.”

I closed my eyes and felt the sun on my face, which wasn’t too tough since it was pouring in through the showroom window. The temperature today in Wachobe had risen to fifty degrees already. We were looking at a second Indian summer. Must be all that global warming.

“And they’re racing today. We’re in the lead.”

I opened my eyes and glanced over at him. “You’ve gotten the racing bug all of a sudden, haven’t you?”

He grinned back at me, his teeth glittering ivory from all the whiteners he used on them. According to Cory, a stage actor must have gloriously white teeth. I’d wondered more than once if he’d reached the point where they glowed in the dark. “Brennan’s excited to race this Mazda. The turbo’s got a lot of power.”

“Do you see us getting involved with other race teams, or just Brennan?”

“Just Brennan, unless you think differently.”

I closed my eyes again. “I don’t. To be honest, I’ve been wondering if I should get out of the sports car business altogether. You’re the moneymaker here. I haven’t sold much this past year and I still have this lemon.”

Cory touched my forearm. I turned toward him again.

“I think the time is coming for this car, Jo. People have forgotten about the murder. And now that fuel economy standards mandate a corporate average fuel economy of 35 miles per gallon by 2020, America isn’t going to be manufacturing the sports car classics like the Corvette. Pretty soon it will be all about imports. Our knowledge and skills will be in demand, you’ll see.”

Everything I’d read gave me the same idea, but still … “I thought about offering you the business.”

His head wagged back and forth. “I don’t want the responsibility, Jo. The last few months sucked without you. I was afraid you weren’t coming back. I wouldn’t have time for Summer Theater without you. I love cars, but I love the theater, too. I want the time to do both. Besides—” he slid his hand into mine “—we’re a team. Batman and Robin. The Lone Ranger and Tonto.”

I tapped the Ferrari’s dashboard with my free hand. “Laurel and Hardy.”

His girly eyelashes batted. “I don’t do slapstick comedy.”

“Fair enough. How about you take the day off? I owe you a few days off.”

“What are you going to do?”

“Leslie Flynn’s coming to see me at eleven. She’s going to unveil her new look.” I explained to Cory how I had enlisted Celeste’s support to makeover Leslie.

Cory wrapped his fingers around the steering wheel. “I’m not going anywhere. I have
got
to see that.”

“Fine, but be advised I’m also talking her out of buying the Caterham.”

____

The two-hour wait passed as if it were ten minutes. I used the time to tell Cory about Erica and Danny. I had plenty to tell and he was a good listener.

Ray stopped by at ten-thirty with a copy of Maury Boor’s DMV photo. He’d already started to show the photo in all the convenience and grocery stores plus the motels in and surrounding Wachobe, along with a photo of Jessica James.

He leaned against the Ferrari, never asking why Cory and I were sitting inside it, which was good because I didn’t want to explain about Monte Carlo. “So far, no one’s seen either of them.”

“Do you have their pictures on you?” Cory asked. “Maybe I’ve seen them around.”

Unfortunately, Cory was not acquainted with the elusive Maury Boor or Jessica James.

I wasn’t surprised no one had seen Jessica. For all we knew, she was six feet under somewhere. Even though I avoided the gossip vine, I think even I would have heard if a one-armed woman was wandering around town.

Ray twirled his keys around his finger. “A number of the checkout counters in the convenience stores had sale displays of silver initial key chains just like the one Danny said his father owned. The letter
P
appears to be popular. Some of the displays didn’t have any left.”

Great. So maybe it was Mr. Phillips’ key chain, maybe it wasn’t. I sank a little farther into my leather seat, disappointed that Ray’s investigative efforts hadn’t paid off.

Ray’s radio squawked and a string of codes followed. He listened and eased himself off the Ferrari.

“I talked to the Buffalo PD. They’re going to send a car by Maury’s address and see what they can find out. I gotta go. I’ll call you later.” Ray kissed my cheek and left.

I stuffed the photo in my purse. I wanted to help with the search, but Leslie was on her way. As soon as she left, I’d start asking around town about Maury, too.

At one minute to eleven, the showroom bells jingled again. “Ta da.”

Cory and I looked up. He gasped.

If I hadn’t
known
it was Leslie Flynn, I wouldn’t have recognized her. Her hair now had a more subtle auburn color and appeared longer than the day before. Her eyes appeared darker and with thicker lashes. The red lipstick made her mouth full and lush and set off her new teeth, which were straight and white but also a little wide and long. The V-neck of her blouse drew the eye away from her broad shoulders, and its empire waist de-emphasized Leslie’s thick middle. Her fingers were manicured to match her lipstick. I had no doubt her toes matched as well.

Her wide-legged black pants swished over her black pumps as she sashayed across the room. “Celeste taught me how to walk, too.”

All I could say was “Wow.” Celeste had accomplished this magnificent transformation within twenty-four hours. No way could I return the extra six hundred dollars of clothes she’d forced on me yesterday. It would be downright disrespectful.